


The Gun

by I_Am_Just_Betty



Category: The Streets of San Francisco
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 11:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25849057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Am_Just_Betty/pseuds/I_Am_Just_Betty
Summary: Licking his dry lips and forcing himself to remain calm, Steve stepped closer as he slowly reached for the gun. “You’re not in trouble Sammy, I just need you to give me the gun.”
Comments: 10
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

“Cover the back Steve, in case Henderson decides to try and make a break, but be careful, Buddy Boy, we don’t know if he’s armed or not.” Mike ordered softly, nodding towards the small alleyway that wound around the side and led to the back of the building.

Steve nodded, “You be careful too, Mike,” he warned before heading towards the alleyway, unholstering his gun as he ran.

Mike hesitated a moment as he waited for his young partner to reach the alley’s entrance before he turned and entered the old dilapidated apartment building, carefully making his way up the old wooden stairs.

Staying close to the shadow of the wall of the building, Steve moved cautiously into the alley. He hated this part of the job, entering a dark, deserted area alone, uncertain if anyone waited in the shadows, watching his every move.

A fleeting movement in the darkened recesses of the alley caught his eye. Steve tightened the grip on his gun, his finger resting lightly on the trigger as he got a cautious step forward and called, “Police! Freeze!”

Steve felt his heart miss several beats at the sight of the two frightened young boys staring wide-eyed at him. His hand trembled as he lowered his gun, reholstering it. “What are you two boys doing here?” he demanded a little more gruffly then he meant to, feeling physically ill at how close he had been to pulling the trigger. Drawing a deep breath to settle his nerves, he nervously ran his hand over his head, leaving it resting on the back of his neck as he asked more quietly, “God, do either of you two know how close I came to shooting both of you?”

Both boys traded guilty glances before the oldest boy turned back to Steve and answered, “We’re just hangin’ out, Officer Keller, honest! We ain’t doin’ nothin’.”

“Yeah, Officer Keller, we were just hangin’ out.” Echoed the smaller child, quickly hiding something behind his back.

Steve eyed the two young boys suspiciously, he knew Mike was not going to be happy that he was not covering the back in case Henderson made a break for it but the two boys’ odd behavior alerted him to something was more amiss than just the two boys being somewhere where both were fully aware they were not allowed to be. He stepped forward towards the two boys as his voice took on the no nonsense tone he had heard their parents use on them when they were together and being rambunctious. “Sammy, what are you hiding behind your back?”

The young boy’s bottom lip quivered as he slowly and reluctantly brought his hand around to the front, Steve stared in disbelief at the .45 police special revolver he had clutched in his hands. “Please Officer Keller, don’t tell me dad. He doesn’t know I sneaked it out of the house. I’m not allowed to touch his police gun, but I just wanted to show Tommy.” The small boy’s eyes filled with tears and his hands shook as he held the heavy weapon.” I know I shoudn’t have taken it, but I was gunna put it straight back, honest!”

Licking his dry lips and forcing himself to remain calm, Steve stepped closer as he slowly reached for the gun. “You’re not in trouble Sammy, I just need you to give me the gun.” Steve commanded gently, not wanting to frighten the frightened child more than he already was.

“Give Officer Keller the gun, Sammy!” Tommy ordered, grabbing at the weapon in his friend’s hands.

“Leave me alone! I’m doin’ it!” Sammy yelled, jerking the gun away from his friend’s reach.

A deafening bang startled the young boys as the gun discharged and they looked up, eyes wide with shock as Steve clutched the side of his head, blood seeping through his fingers before his legs suddenly buckled beneath him and he collapsed silently to the ground.

“You killed him!” Tommy whispered as he stared at the growing red puddle forming around Steve’s head. “You killed Officer Keller!”

“I…I didn’t mean to. It was an accident.” Sammy whimpered as he stared at one of his father’s best friends' motionless body lying on the ground. “What am I gunna do, Tommy, my dad will arrest me if he finds out! Then he will skin me alive for touching his gun!”

“We’re gotta get out of here! We’re gotta put your dad’s gun back where it belongs so no one will ever know what ya did!” Tommy said, tugging on his friend’s sleeve, “Come on, we gotta get out of here before someone sees us and tells.”

Backing away, with the gun still clutched tightly in his hand, Sammy nodded and turned, following his friend as they ran out of the alley.


	2. Chapter 2

Reaching the second floor, Mike moved down the corridor, un-holstering his weapon as he neared Henderson's one room apartment door. Reaching the door, he knocked loudly as he called, "Police, Henderson. Open up!"

The sound of cursing and running feet instantly warned Mike that the murder suspect was trying to make a break for it, probably down the fire escape. Kicking open the door, Mike quickly entered the apartment just in time to see the terrified looking face of the man, he and Steve had been searching for the last four days, look at him through the window before disappearing out of view. Racing across to the window, Mike leaned out and looked down the metal ladder fire escape only to see Henderson leap from the bottom of the ladder and onto the ground, glancing up at him as he yelled, "Steve!", before turning and running towards the alleyway that ran beside the building.

Turning and running towards the door, confident that Steve would capture their desperate fugitive, Mike's heart momentarily froze when he heard the sound of a single gunshot from somewhere outside. With an extra surge of speed, that belied his age, Mike ran down the rickety stairs and out of the apartment door before running to the mouth of the alleyway. Standing next to the front wall of the apartment building with his gun ready for any trouble that he might encounter, Mike cast a quick glance around the edge of the building, his chest tightening with fear as he saw the motionless body of his partner lying face down on the wet, litter strewn ground.

Mike quickly scanned the dimly lit alley before he cautiously stepped into the alleyway and forcing himself to momentarily ignore the body of his partner, he quickly searched for any potential threats or hidden dangers but other than Steve, the alley was empty. Henderson was gone.

Re-holstering his gun, he turned and hurried back crossed to where Steve was lying before crouching down and he found himself staring at Steve's bloodied face and head and the burgundy red puddle that was beginning to pool around his partner's head and shoulders. A head shot! Pressing his trembling fingers against the side of Steve's neck, he desperately began to palpate for a pulse. He sighed a soft breath of relief as he felt a weak thump underneath his fingertips. He quickly shrugged his coat and covered Steve before squeezing his partner's shoulder and re-assuring Steve that he would be right back.

Rising to his feet, Mike turned and ran out of the alley, crossing to their car before opening the door and snagging the police radio. Depressing the button, he made the one call that he prayed each day that he would never have to make and the one call that every cop hated to hear. "Officer down!"

O()O()O()O()O()O

Mike looked up as the elevator doors slid open and Rudy stepped out and quickly looked around before he turned and hurried towards him. Pushing himself away from the wall where he had been leaning, he silently waited until his captain joined him outside the Operating Room into which Steve had been rushed more than two hours before.

"How is he?"

Mike shrugged as he looked back at the doors of the OR before he looked back at Rudy, his voice catching in his throat just a little as he forced himself to answer, his words making the situation a reality and not the bad nightmare that he had been praying that he would wake up from, "Not good, he took a round to the head. They took him straight into surgery, they didn't even try and stabilize him in the ER." Running a hand over his face to wipe away the tears that threatened to fall, Mike swallowed hard as he added, "The doctor promised to update me as soon as they can."

Rudy nodded as he glanced towards down the empty corridor they were standing in before he looked back at Mike, "What happened Mike?"

Looking down at the paper bag containing Steve's wallet, badge, house and car keys as well as his gun and holster, that he held in his hand, Mike shook his head. "Steve got a lead to where Henderson was lying low, so we went to the apartment to make the arrest. I got Steve to cover the back in case Henderson tried to make a break for it while I went up to his room. Henderson must have panicked when I announced myself and made a break for it down the fire escape. Steve must have confronted him in the alley. I heard a shot but by the time I made it to the alleyway, Steve was down, and Henderson was gone."

"And you saw no one else around? Are you sure?"

Mike nodded his head as he looked at Rudy in confusion, "Yes, the alley was empty, Rudy, I checked, why?"

"We have a witness who said she saw two small boys run out of the alley almost immediately after the shot were fired."

"Two small boys?" Mike frowned.

"The witness told Lessing that both boys were young, no older than seven or eight years old, one was blonde, the other had dark hair and both were dressed in jeans and tee-shirts. She was too far away to get a good look at either boy nor had she seen them around the alley before. She also told Lessing that she saw a man fitting Henderson's description also run out of the alley a few seconds later."

Mike frowned, "Maybe two small potential witnesses who were in the alley and saw what happened."

Rudy nodded in agreement. "That's what I'm thinking." he told Mike as the operating door opened and the surgeon emerged, still dressed in his surgical scrubs, emerged.

O()O()O()O()O()O

Carefully opening the back door that led into the kitchen, Sammy poked his head inside and quickly looked around. The kitchen was empty, and he could hear the television on in the living room, and by the sound of the theme music that he heard playing, he knew his mother had just settled down for to watch her show, Days of Our Lives, he thought it was called. He frowned, he didn’t understand what was so interesting about it, Speed Racer was so much better, but he did know his mother would be more interested in her television show than what he and Tommy were doing.

Waving at Tommy to let him know the coast was clear, he pushed the door fully open, pausing only long enough to wipe his feet so he would not leave dirty footprints on his mother’s clean floor. Quickly crossing the kitchen, he hid the gun behind his back before he pushed the swinging doors to the living room open and tried to casually saunter, behind the sofa where his mother was sitting watching her show, towards the stairs that led upstairs to the bedrooms, with Tommy trailing close behind.

“What are you two boys up to?”

He froze at his mother’s question, pressing the gun harder against his back in an attempt to conceal it better as he stopped and slowly turned towards her, “Umm, nothing, mom, just …just ridin’ our bikes. We stayed in the street just like you told us.”

Frowning at her son’s guilty answer, Jane turned and looked over her shoulder, pinning him with her famous ‘I know you are lying’ stare and narrowing her eyes as she asked, “Okay, just where did the two of you go?”

“Nowhere, honest, Mrs Wakefield, we just rode up and down the street like ya told us,” Tommy interrupted, giving his friend’s mom the best innocent look that he could do.

“Ah ha,” Jane’s eyes narrowed, watching the two boys with suspicion, as Sammy eagerly nodded, a little too fast, agreeing with Tommy.

“See, I told ya, Mom,” Sammy rushed on as he edged towards the stairs, his hands held behind his back as he asked, “Can we go now? We want to go upstairs and play Mr Potato Head.”

Eyeing the two boys for a few more minutes, Jane finally nodded as she turned back towards the television, calling over her shoulder as she heard the two boys run up the carpeted stairs, “Try not to make too much noise. Remember, Sammy, dad’s on night duty, so don’t you go waking him up.”

“Okay, Mom.” Sammy called down as he reached the top of the stairs before he turned and ran across to his bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him after Tommy followed him in.

“How are you going to put the gun back now? You heard your mom, your dad’s asleep.” Tommy asked, watching as Sammy hurried across to his bed and carefully put the gun down onto it.

“It’s okay, mom always says to be quiet and not to wake dad up when he’s sleepin’ during the day. But I heard her tell grandma that dad can sleep through an earthquake, and luckily nothin’, not even me and my friends playing can wake him up.” Sammy told his friend as he turned and hurried across to his dresser and opened one of the drawers before pulling out a clean tee-shirt and returning to the bed. “And I got the gun out of his drawer after he went to sleep this morning,” Sammy smiled with pride as he picked up the gun and carefully began to wipe it with his shirt, “So I will just put it back the same way. But you will have to be my look out, mom’s show finishes soon and I don’t want her to catch me.”

Tommy nodded as he watched Sammy carefully wiped down the outside of the gun, “Yeah, okay,” he agreed distractedly before he frowned and asked, “Why are ya doing that? The gun ain’t dirty.”

Looking up in surprise, Sammy shook his head at the confused look on his friend’s face as he answered, knowingly, “I’m makin’ sure our fingerprints ain’t on it. Don’t ya watch the T.V? That’s what the bad guys do if they don’t want to get caught and dad says its so the police can’t find their fingerprints. That way it makes it hard to arrest them for murder.”

“I knew that, just checkin’ you did!” Tommy protested as he turned and followed Sammy, who was still holding the gun carefully with the tee shirt, towards the door.

“Bet ya didn’t!” Sammy hissed back as he carefully opened the door and looked out into the hall way before he looked over his shoulder and whispered the words he had often heard on TV when the baddie wanted to sneak in somewhere, “Come on, the coast is clear.” before stepping out and heading across to his parent’s room.

Stopping as he reached the door, he turned and reminded Tommy, “Just remember, ya got to warn me if you see my mom comin’.”

“How?” Tommy whispered.

“I don’t know, the baddies always give a whistle in the shows,” Sammy sighed in feigned annoyance.

“I can’t whistle,” Tommy whispered, “but I can call out your name if I see her, will that work?”

Sammy nodded. “Yeah, just make sure you call out loud enough for me to hear,” he told his friend before he opened the bedroom door and slipped inside the darkened bedroom.

Closing the door behind him, he stood still and stared at his father in the bed, holding his breath as he waited to see if his father had woken up when he had opened the door. He grinned as he heard his father’s soft, familiar snore before he crept, on tip toes across the room, going down onto his hands and knees and crawling with the gun in his hand as he got within a few feet of the bed.

Stopping when he reached his father’s bedside table he quickly rose to peek to make sure his father was still sleeping before he reached across and slowly pulled the drawer open, just wide enough to put the gun back from where he had got it. Sticking the tip of his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, he carefully placed the gun in the drawer, freezing when the gun slipped from the tee shirt and softly cluttered against the bottom of the drawer.

He held his breath as he turned in fear, expecting to find his father staring at him but instead he watched his father murmur something in his sleep as he rolled over onto his back. Releasing his breath, he slowly pushed the drawer closed before he turned and crawled quickly back to the door, standing up and opening it before dashing back out into the hallway.

“Did ya put it back?” Tommy asked as Sammy turned and quickly closed the door.

“Yeah, told ya I would, now no one can arrest us.” Sammy smiled as he headed back towards his bedroom. “I bags first roll of the dice,” he told his friend as he and Tommy ran back to his room to play.


	3. Chapter 3

Hurrying across to the surgeon, with Rudy close behind him, Mike asked, “How is he, Doc?”

“Inspector Keller’s condition is currently critical but stable,” the surgeon began, tugging the surgical mask that still hung around his neck free, “The bullet struck the left side of his head and although it did not penetrate the skull, it did cause a depressed skull fracture as it gouged across the outside of the bone, causing several large bone fragments to break away and press down against his brain which caused some intracranial hemorrhaging and swelling. We were able to stop the bleeding and remove the bone fragments before wiring the fragmented bone fragments back into place.”

“But he’s going to be okay?” Mike pushed, silently praying that he was about to hear the answer he so desperately needed to hear.

“He’s young and strong, and barring any complications, he has a good chance… but as for the chances of it being a full recovery,” the surgeon shrugged, “I’m afraid I can’t answer that just yet. We won’t know if there is any brain damage or how severe any brain damage he might have suffered may be until he regains consciousness.”

Mike swallowed hard and nodded, “Can…can I see him?”

“Not until tomorrow, I’m afraid,” the doctor replied, “he’s still in recovery and then they will be transferring him into the ICU where we will be monitoring him closely tonight, now if you will excuse me, I really need to get back to my patient.”

“Thank you, Doc,” Mike said quietly as the doctor turned and headed back towards the OR doors.

Pushing the doors open, the doctor paused and turned back towards the two homicide officers, “We also found gunpowder stippling around the wound when we shaved his head for the surgery, not sure if that’s useful or not.” he added, almost as an afterthought before he turned and disappeared through the doors.

“Thanks, Doc,” Mike called after him before he turned and headed back towards the elevator.

“Gunpowder stippling around the wound,” Rudy frowned, glancing across at Mike as Mike hit the elevator button, “That means Keller was shot at close range, why the hell did he let Henderson get so close without firing a shot to defend himself.”

“I don’t know, “Mike murmured as the elevator doors opened and he stepped inside, “But I am going to find out,” he promised his captain as he hit the button to go down.

O()O()O()O()O()O

Opening his bedside drawer, John froze when he saw his service weapon lying on top of his gun belt and holster. Reaching into the drawer, he slowly picked the gun and the gun belt up and placed them on top of the bedside drawers. Running a hand over his face, he sat down heavily on the edge of the bed as he stared at the two items. He knew that the gun had been holstered and the holster’s safety strap had been holding the weapon securely to prevent it from slipping free when he had placed it in the drawer and he knew there could only be one reason why the gun was now out of his holster.

His heart sunk, aware this was not the first time this had happened and he had his doubts that this would be the last time either. Taking a deep shuddering breath as he forced himself to rise from the bed, he slowly walked across to the bedroom door and opened it before he called to his son. “Sammy, come in here please.”

He watched as Sammy and his friend Tommy emerged from Sammy’s bedroom before he stepped aside and allowed Sammy to enter his bedroom as Tommy stopped, uncertainly, at the doorway.

“Yes, Daddy?” Sammy asked, glancing at his father’s service weapon on the bedside table before he turned and looked innocently up at his father.

“Sammy, did you go into my drawers while I was asleep and touch my police gun?” he asked softly, watching his son carefully.

“No, Daddy,” Sammy shook his head, “you and mommy said that I am not allowed to touch it anymore.”

“Are you sure you didn’t sneak it out to show your friend, Tommy?” John asked, glancing towards Sammy’s friend who suddenly looked very scared and guilty before he returned his attention back to his son, “You won’t get into trouble if you tell me the truth.” John promised, just wanting Sammy to tell him the truth.

“No, Daddy, you and mommy told me I wasn’t allowed to anymore.” Sammy repeated as he shook his head empathically, his lip trembling slightly as he saw his father stare at him in disbelief before he asked quietly, “Can I go now, please? Tommy and me are playing Mr Potato Head and I just need to get an ear to win.”

Nodding silently, John watched as Sammy ran out of the room before he headed back to his bedroom with his friend close behind him. He stood staring at the empty doorway, uncertain of what to do or where else to turn. Sammy had just blatantly lied to his face again, and experience had taught him that once Sammy lied, no amounts of threats, bribery, groundings or even spankings could make the child admit the truth. And he was quickly reaching the end of his rope with Sammy and his behavior. Only seven years old, his son was already adept at lying and would do just whatever he wanted to do with little or no empathy of the effects that his behavior had on other people.

Sammy just did not seem to care. Not even after Jamie's death… His hand shook as he remembered that horrible morning when he had entered the baby's nursery and found Sammy smiling proudly, standing beside Jamie's cot with the cot's side down and a pillow in his hand. Neither he nor Susan had ever told anyone what he had seen that morning, the mere thought that Sammy might have possibly had something to do with Jamie's death was just too hard to deal with or believe. Jamie's death had been ruled as SIDS, the yet to be explained Sudden Infant Death Syndrome where a healthy baby suddenly died in their sleep and the doctors are unable to find the reason why.

Susan and he had taken Sammy to numerous doctors, pediatricians and even several child psychologists in an attempt to find out what was wrong with their son and how they could correct his behavior. But the answers were always the same, ranging from Sammy was just going through a normal childhood phase which he would eventually grow out of it, to the traumatic and sudden death of a younger sibling often delays normal emotional development and causes the child to become emotionally detached from everyone around him, with love time and understanding, Sammy would recover from the loss of his baby brother answer. All he could do was pray and hope the doctors were right.

He sighed, aware that nothing he could say or do to Sammy would stop the boy from trying to play with his gun. All he could do was to place a lock on the drawer and hide the key to keep the deadly weapon out of his young son’s hands to prevent any potential tragedies from happening, something he would have to do the first thing tomorrow after he got home from night duty.

Reaching for his gun belt, he strapped it around his waist before replacing the gun in its holster and grabbing his badge, wallet and keys from the top of the bedside drawers. Glancing down at his watch, he turned and hurried out of the room, he was running late and the Sarge would have his head if he missed roll call again.

O()O()O()O()O()O()O()O

Tony Henderson pulled the thin coat he was wearing a little tighter against the cold drizzle that had farewelled the setting sun as he nervously looked around. Reassuring himself that no one was around, he left the safety of the shadows and ran across the road. Hurrying up the stairs to the home's front door, he quickly looked around again before he turned and knocked. He waited for a minute, shifting nervously from foot to foot before he knocked again.

He heard someone within approach the door before a young, dark- haired woman opened the door. "Tony!" she gasped in surprise, "What are you doing here? I thought I told you that you were never to come here again!"

"Just get in here, before one of your nosy neighbors sees me, and shut the door!" he ordered softly as he pushed past her and moved across to the window, lifting the curtain slightly to look outside as the young woman closed the door and turned to face him as she placed her hands on her hips.

"You just can't turn up here and order me to let you come in any time you want, Tony, not after what happened the last time you were here," she told him firmly, "I told you that we were through, that I don't want you coming around here ever again."

Dropping the curtain back into place, Tony turned and faced her, his fear evident in his face, his voice trembling as he whispered, "I'm sorry, Jenny, but I didn't know where else to go…"

Concern replaced any annoyance she was feeling as she looked into Tony's frightened eyes and asked, "Tony, what's happened?"

"I'm in trouble, Jen, big trouble this time," he admitted, running his fingers through his hair, a habit she knew he did unconsciously when he was nervous or upset.

She frowned as she stepped closer and grabbed his hands, squeezing them lightly as she asked, "What sort of trouble?"

"The cops think I killed one of them," he began softly as he pulled his hands free of her light hold and began to pace the small room, "They think I shot him in the head as I tried to get away from them… but it was one of the kids…"

"You shot a cop?" Jenny's frown deepened in confusion, shocked and a little frightened at what he was telling her as she tried to follow his story as Tony paced back towards the window, "I…I don't understand…Why did you do that?"

"I didn't shoot the cop!" Henderson growled as he spun towards her.

His unpredictable fiery temper had always frightened her, although she loved him with all her heart and when everything was going well he was so gentle and loving but when things went wrong... His temper was quick and often violent. She stepped back and gasped in surprise and terror when she saw a gun in his hand. "I didn't shoot that cop," he shouted again as he jabbed the gun towards her in anger, "Don't you ever listen, I have already told you that the kid shot the cop, not me."

Swallowing hard as she took another faltering step backwards, Jenny raised her hands as she tried desperately to calm him, "Okay, okay, you didn't shoot the cop, the kid did but think about it, Tony, if you didn't shoot him, why don't you tell the cops that. I've…I've watched some of the police shows on television and the …the…" She frowned as she desperately tried to think of the right word the cop shows used for collecting stuff like fingerprints and checking bullets, "umm…forensics…I think they call it will support what you say. I mean if you didn't shoot the cop, the bullets in your gun won't match the bullet they have dug out of the cop's body. You can tell them the kids shot him. You will be in the clear."

"Damn it, open your ears and listen to me?" Tony yelled, his fear, frustration and anger boiling over as he took a threatening step closer, "I can't go to the cops and tell them what happened! The cop got shot while I was trying to get away from them, so why would they believe me anyway?" He shook his head as he turned and stepped back to the window, lifting the curtain to look outside again. Satisfied that the street was still empty and their shouting had not drawn any unwanted attention, he allowed the curtain to drop back into place before he turned back towards the now frightened woman, his gun still trained on her as he announced, "The cops are looking for me, that's why I came here. I needed somewhere safe to hide, where the cops won't look for me and you're going to hide me until I can get away."

She nodded woodenly in reluctant agreement, too frightened to speak and risk angering him any further, the last time she had angered him had resulted in four broken ribs, a broken arm, a black eye and a two-week hospital stay for her. Licking her dry lips, she managed to whisper, "Okay, Tony, you can stay here."

He smiled and lowered his gun, satisfied he had complete control over her again as he quietly ordered, "So, be a good girl and go and lock the door and then go and make me some dinner. I'm hungry," His smile turned wolfish and he licked his lips greedily, staring at her ass as she turned and hurried across to lock the door before he added softly, "and maybe afterwards we can have some real fun together, just like we used to do!"

O()O()O()O()O()O()

Standing in the alleyway, Mike frowned as he stared up at the small hole where the bullet that had struck Steve had embedded itself in the wall. He turned and stared at the spot where his partner had fallen, his frown deepening. Every possible scenario he ran through his mind about just how Steve was shot was instantly rejected. None of this made any sense and the more scenarios he ran through his mind, the more questions he had. Why had Steve had allowed Henderson, a suspect Steve knew was possibly armed and dangerous, to get the drop on him? Why had Steve reholstered his gun? And now, seeing the actual angle of the bullet that had struck Steve in the head, just added to Mike's questions and confusion on just what had had happened in this alleyway just a few short hours before.

He slowly turned and looked around him, pulling his coat closer to ward off the cold chill in the air as the daylight began to fade and a light misty rain began to fall. The usual collection of overflowing garbage bins, discarded cardboard boxes and general rubbish no longer wanted by the tenants or businesses in the surrounding buildings lined the wall, lots of places for two small, frightened boys to hide. But what were they doing here? The alley was not the place most young children would come to play. And just what had they seen?

He sighed and turned, walking out the now dark and empty alley and headed into the apartment building before he walked up the rickety stairs to Henderson's 2nd floor apartment. Reaching the apartment door, he removed the key he had obtained from the manager when he had first arrived from his coat pocket and unlocked the door. Pushing it open, he entered the apartment, flicking on the light switch next to the door as he closed the door. Turning back, he eyed the room.

The room reeked of stale cigarette smoke and unwashed clothes, an overflowing ashtray sat in the middle of the small badly scratched coffee table that had several well-worn playboy magazines scattered across it, and empty beer bottles were dropped, haphazardly, around the floor. Taking a few steps across to the small kitchenette, Mike's nose wrinkled as the smell that emitted from an old pizza box sitting open on the bench assaulted his nose. Reaching across, he quickly hit the box lid closed and pushed it away as he picked up several addressed envelopes that had been dropped next to it.

He quickly went through the contents of the envelopes, most were bills, many overdue, all addressed to Henderson's only too obvious alias John F. Kennedy. Mike could almost hear Henderson laugh as he told people his alias name, 'Yeah, just like J.F.K. but I am more handsome than he was."

Finding nothing useful to the investigation, Mike dropped the envelopes back onto the bench before he began to open drawers, and searching them, hoping to find an address book or something that might lead him to where Henderson was now hiding.

Finding nothing useful, he crossed back to the living area and sat down beside small set of bedside drawers that was doubling as a second well used coffee table' leaning down, he pulled the first draw open, pushing aside an assortment or socks, underwear and what was once white but now were grayish, sweat stained, tee shirts. He paused as he saw the photo of a young smiling woman hidden at the bottom of the drawer. Carefully picking it up he studied the young woman's smiling face, her dark hair and eyes before he turned it over and read the name scrawled carefully on the back. 'Jenny'.

Placing it down on the top of the bedside table, he pushed closed the drawer before opening the second one and quickly ruffling through the shirts and tee shirts that appeared to have been just shoved, haphazardly, into the drawer rather than folded and placed.

"Mike!"

He looked up in surprise as Bill hurried into the apartment, the look on Bill's face warned him something had happened, something bad as Bill rushed on. "Norm told me that you were here. The hospital is looking for you, they need you to return immediately."

"Did they say why?" Mike asked as he picked up the photo and hurried towards the door.

"No, the nurse only would tell us that Steve's condition has deteriorated, and the doctor suggested that you get there as fast as you could." Bill told him as he followed Mike out of the apartment and down the stairs.

Mike felt his heart miss several beats in fear. Pushing the photo, he had found, into Bill's hand as he ran down the stairs, Mike ordered over his shoulder, "I found this in the bedside drawer. Try and find out who she is and what link she has to Henderson. If you need me…"

"We know where you will be," Bill finished Mike's statement as Mike ran towards his LTD.


	4. Chapter 4

"As many of you probably already know, Steve Keller from Homicide was shot, at point blank range in the head today in the alleyway next to the old Bellevue Apartment building in Mission Street, while trying to apprehend a suspect, Henderson on suspicion of murder." Holding up his hand to stop the sudden barrage of shouted questions asking about the young inspector's condition, the sergeant waited until silence fell back in the squad room. "From what I have been told, Keller underwent emergency surgery this afternoon and his condition is currently listed as critical but stable and the doctors are optimistic that if there are no complications, he will recover but just how well that recovery will be…" he shrugged, aware that every man in the room knew the type of damage a bullet to the head could do.

Picking up the leaflets of the APB notification and photo of the wanted shooter, the sergeant handed the pile to the officer sitting in front of him, to take one and pass the rest along. Watching until each man studied the APB, he glanced down at the notes he had made before he looked back up at his men and continued, "Forensics have confirmed that Keller was shot with a .38 caliber weapon but the bullet is too damaged to link it to any gun.

Henderson managed to escape after the shooting but Lieutenant Stone, from Homicide, believes that there could be two small witnesses who saw the shooting of Inspector Keller go down. A witness has reported seeing two boys run out of the alley moments after the shooting, before they were followed out by a man matching Henderson description. She described the boys as being around the ages of seven or eight, one with blond hair, the other dark hair, both were dressed in jeans and tee shirts."

"Damn, that could be any seven or eight-year-old boy in the city," Randy yelled out in frustration before he tilted head towards his partner, "Hell, John's own kid, Sammy, fits that description."

John froze, unable to breath or speak, Randy was right, the description did fit Sammy to a tee and the shooting had happened only three blocks away from his home.

"I know, I know, Kelegain, but Lieutenant Stone believes these two boys at best are potential witnesses and at worst, if Henderson knows they witnessed the shooting, they could become his next victims. He wants us to keep our eyes out for any young boys fitting that description in that area. We need to try and find these two boys before Henderson does and find out just what they saw." Returning his attention back to the rest of the officers in the squad room, he ordered, "Henderson should be considered armed and dangerous, he has already cold-bloodedly shot one good officer who was trying to arrest him today and I doubt he would not hesitate shooting another if he is cornered. So, let's try and get him off the streets before he decides to kill anyone else.

Okay, moving on, there has been a spate of complaints about a family of gypsies currently doing the rounds in the south Mission District…"

John sat froze, unable to breath or speak, as the sarge's voice faded away and his thoughts drifted back to his gun and Sammy. Randy was right, the description did fit Sammy to a tee and the shooting had happened only three blocks away from his home. A knot of fear formed in the pit of his gut as he wondered if Sammy and Tommy had spent the afternoon in the street riding their bikes as Sammy had told his mother or had the two boys slipped away to play with his gun. He needed to talk to Janey and fast. He needed to know where the boys had spent the afternoon.

He jumped when he felt Randy nudge him and was surprised to find that the briefing had finished. Rising from his seat, he grabbed the APB sheet and followed his partner out of the door, pausing as they stepped out into the corridor. "I just want to ring home and tell Janey about Steve before she sees it on the news. I'll be out to the car in a couple of minutes."

Randy nodded, aware the both John and Jane were close friends with Keller, probably closer than they were him, after all, Steve had been John's partner before he had promoted to Homicide Inspector. "Just hurry up, will ya, the Sarge is already on our case for leaving the station late yesterday."

"I will." John promised as Randy sighed and nodded before he turned and walked towards the door leading out into the police garage.

Turning back towards the payphones that lined the back wall, John reached into his pocket and pulled out all his loose change, carefully going through the coins, searching for a dime when he heard Sarge call his name. Swallowing hard, he quickly dropped the coins back into his pocket and spun around, expecting to see Sarge's angry glare and receive a tongue lashing about how he should be out on patrol already but instead Sarge hurried across to where he was standing.

"Sarge, I can explain…" John began only to have his explanation silenced in a wave of the sergeant's hand.

"I'm glad I caught you before you went out on patrol, John," his duty sergeant began, placing a hand on John's shoulder as the Sarge steered him back towards the squad room, and away from anyone who could overhear their conversation. "Your partner's objections about the description of the boys in there reminded me that you live about three blocks away from where Keller was shot this afternoon and that your son is about the same age as the boys we are looking for."

John felt his heart stop in fear as he nodded woodenly.

"So, you probably know a few boys in that area who fit the general description, including your own son."

"But, Sarge, as Randy said that description fits a lot of kids…" John began to weakly object.

"I know," the sergeant sighed as he turned and looked at his young officer, "But it's a start, so that's why I want you and your partner going to directly the homes of any boys in that area who you know might fit that description and interviewing them, maybe one of them will admit to being in the alley this afternoon. I know it's a long shot but sometimes long shots like this pay off."

Biting his bottom lip, John nodded, "Okay, Sarge."

Watching his sergeant walk away, John glanced at the payphones before he turned and headed towards the door of the parking garage where his partner was waiting. He swallowed hard as parts of the Sarge's report of Steve's shooting replayed over and over in his mind, _"Steve Keller from Homicide was shot at point blank range in the head today in the alleyway next to the old Bellevue Apartment building in Mission Street, his condition is currently listed as critical. A witness has reported seeing two boys run out of the alley moments after the shooting. She described the boys as being around the ages of seven of eight, one with blond hair, the other dark hair, both were dressed in jeans and tee shirts."_

He swallowed hard as Randy's voice echoed in his mind. _"Damn, that could be any seven or eight-year-old boy in the city, Hell, John's own kid, Sammy, fits that description."_

He felt his stomach churn as he stepped through the doors and paused in the shadows of the garage, Randy did not know how right he was, Sammy and Tommy did fit the descriptions, in fact both fitted the descriptions to a tee, and both were wearing tee shirts and jeans. He bit his lip, as he remembered how he had found his gun in the drawer and the knowledge that Sammy had lied straight to his face when asked if he had touched it. John found himself wondering just where Sammy and Tommy had actually played that afternoon.

Janey had told him the Sammy and Tommy had spent the afternoon riding their bikes in the street when he had asked but he knew that Janey often escaped the reality of what had happened to their family in the last few months by watching her soap operas and ignoring the world around her, something he didn't doubt for a second that Sammy would take advantage of.

His stomach churned harder as he found himself wondering just why Steve would have let an armed suspect to get close enough to him to shoot him at point blank range in the head. Steve was one hell of a good cop, there was no way… unless he wasn't shot by the suspect…

_'Keller was shot with a .38 caliber weapon.'_ Sarge's words screamed in his head and he tasted the sour taste of hot bile as it rose in the back of his throat.

Hating himself for the horrifying suspicions that were running through his mind, he quickly looked around to make sure he was alone before he unclipped his weapon and took it out of its holster. He shook his head, unable to believe he was really doing this, and admonished himself about how stupid and guilty he was about to feel for even entertaining the horrible suspicions that were running through his mind. Just what sort of a father was he?

He shook his head, praying that he was wrong as he opened the barrel with a shaking hand to check the bullets. He swallowed hard, uncertain if he was going to vomit when he saw one of the bullets was missing. His gun had been recently fired and not by him.

The world around him faded to grey and he lent back against the cold cement wall as he tried to slow his racing heart and control his breathing as he willed himself not to pass out. Closing the barrel, it took him two goes to replace his weapon into his holster, his hand shaking too badly for him to fasten the safety clip. He swallowed hard and ran his hand over his face, his mind racing. What the Hell was he going to do?

Taking a deep breath to help himself to calm down. The Sarge wanted him and Randy to talk to the neighbourhood kids, including Sammy, to try and find out if any of them would admit to being in that alley when Steve was shot, something he knew Sammy would never admit to. It gave him the perfect excuse to go home and talk to Janey, he needed to find a way to talk to her alone, they needed to work out what they were going to do, how they were going to protect their son.

Pushing himself away from the solid support of the wall, he took another deep breath and ran his hand over his face before he held his hand and watched it tremble. Taking another deep breath, he walked out of the shadows and headed towards the patrol car.

Impatiently drumming the steering wheel with his fingers, Randy looked into the rear vision mirror for any sign of his partner before he glanced down at his watch. Where the Hell was John? He had promised he would only be a few minutes! Randy sighed loudly, aware that Sarge would have both their heads if they were late out on patrol again. His sigh of impatience changed to one of relief as he saw his partner hurrying towards their patrol car.

"I thought you were only going to be a couple of minutes," he snapped a little more harshly than he had meant to when John open the door and slid into the passenger seat. Softening his tone, he glanced across at his partner's pale face as John slowly closed the door, "Everything okay, Buddy?" he frowned watching his partner, pausing with his hand on the ignition key as he stared at his partner's pale face, "Or did Janey take the news of Steve's shooting harder than you thought she would? I know that the three of you are close."

"Yeah, we are, Steve's part of the family, but I didn't get the chance to call her." John answered, avoiding any eye contact with his partner, "The Sarge cornered me before I could, he wants us to talk to some of the boys in my neighborhood, try and find out if any of them were in that alley this afternoon when Steve was shot."

"That's a hell of a long shot." Randy frowned as he started the engine and eased the car out of their parking space and drove out of the garage towards the street exit.

"That's what I told him," John answered, turning to stare out of the side window for a minute as they pulled into traffic before he turned back to look at his partner and asked, hesitatingly, "Umm, listen Randy, would you mind if I talk to Janey and tell her what happened and then question Sammy, and his friend Tommy who is staying with us for the night, on my own. I mean, it's just after everything that has happened… I don't want…" he shrugged uncomfortably, looking away.

Randy nodded as he reached over with one hand and lightly squeezed his partner's shoulder, "I understand, Partner, why don't you give me the addresses of some of the other boys and I will go and talk to them while you talk to Janey and Sammy."

"Thanks," John murmured, relieved, as they turned into his street.

0()0()0()0()0

“Let’s leave him intubated overnight and keep a close eye on his BP and neuro obs,” the surgeon ordered as the nurse jotted down his orders onto her pad.

“Are you worried about intracranial pressure?” she asked looking up at her taller medical colleague.

“There’s always a risk of increased pressure or an intracranial bleed with giving epinephrine to a patient who has just undergone brain surgery,” the surgeon sighed as he continued to write down his new medical orders into the patient’s chart, “and with the dosage we had to give him to counteract the anaphylactic shock.”

The nurse nodded as she glanced over the surgeon’s shoulder as the doors to the ICU opened and the patient’s partner entered the unit. Looking back at the surgeon, she tilted her head towards the worried man hurrying towards them, “Lieutenant Stone is here.”

Quickly scribbling his signature at the end of the new orders, the surgeon closed the chart and handed it to the nurse in a silent dismissal before he turned to face the Homicide lieutenant who was hurrying towards him.

“Doc, I got here as fast as I could. How is he?” Mike rushed out as he reached the surgeon, his fear and worry evident in his face as he clutched his fedora hard in his hand.

Grabbing the older man gently by the elbow, the surgeon nodded towards the small doctor’s office as he suggested, “How about we talk in there.”

Mike nodded woodenly as the surgeon steered him into the office and closed the door behind them before asking him to take a seat.

Sitting down, Mike swallowed nervously, his heart thumping in his chest, as he tried to read the surgeon’s inscrutable face, looking for some clue to Steve’s condition as the doctor began to walk around the desk. “Doc?” he forced himself to croak out through his tightening throat, unable to wait any longer. “Steve?”

Clearing his throat noisily as he sat down, the doctor sighed, “Inspector Keller has had a major set-back in his recovery, I’m afraid.”

“Set back? What sort of set back?” Mike asked anxiously.

“After surgery we commenced Inspector Keller on a course of antibiotics as a preventative measure against any infections,” the surgeon paused a heartbeat before he continued, “unfortunately he suffered a severe allergic reaction to the Penicillin, so severe that he went into anaphylactic shock.”

“Anaphylactic shock?” Mike frowned, not quite sure what the doctor was trying to tell him.

“Anaphylactic shock is a life-threatening condition caused by a severe allergic reaction to usually food, insect bites or as in this case- medication. Inspector Keller had a severe allergic reaction to the Penicillin which not only caused hives but also caused his blood pressure to drop to dangerous levels and his throat to swell closed, impeding his breathing. “

Mike’s face grew white as he listened to what he was being told.

“We were able to get a breathing tube down his throat to enable him to breathe before the swelling closed his throat.” Watching the pale lieutenant closely, the surgeon continued quietly, “We are currently reversing the effects of the anaphylactic shock with medication and are monitoring him closely. We have also commenced him a different regime of antibiotics, which he appears to be tolerating well…”

“But?” Mike whispered, sensing the surgeon had not quite finished telling him all the unwelcome news.

“One of the medications we needed to administer to help counteract the anaphylactic shock, Epinephrine – you probably know it better as Adrenaline,” Mike nodded as the surgeon continued, “helps to elevate the low blood pressure, sometimes a little too much in patients who have just undergone bran surgery as your partner has.”

“And if the adrenaline does cause his blood pressure to rise too much?” Mike asked hesitantly, not sure if he really wanted to hear the answer.

“It can cause intracranial bleeding,” the surgeon answered honestly before quickly reassure the upset man sitting opposite, “but we are monitoring his condition closely and are prepared to deal with any possible complications such as intracranial bleeding that may occur. I also plan to keep him intubated and on oxygen overnight until the danger of the symptoms of the anaphylactic shock has passed to protect his airway.”

Mike nodded numbly as he tried to process everything the doctor had just told him about the bad re-action Steve had had to the antibiotic, swallowing hard to dislodge the lump that had formed in his throat as he managed to whisper, “Can I see him?”

The surgeon nodded as he rose out of his seat, “Of course, but only for a couple of minutes. He is still unconscious, and the nurses are monitoring him closely.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Mike murmured as he rose from his seat, and still clutching his fedora close, followed the surgeon from the small office.


	5. Chapter 5

“Now eat up, boys,” Janey told the two boys as she placed the bowls of her homemade spaghetti and meatballs in front of them and turned to grab the milk out of the fridge to fill their glasses. Closing the fridge door, she jumped in surprise as she saw John standing in the kitchen doorway, the look on his face warned her that something was seriously wrong.

Holding a finger up to his lips as he nodded towards the two boys who were sitting with their backs to the door, he tilted his head towards the living room before he turned and walked back into the living room.

A little frightened and worried by her husband’s strange behavior, she quickly poured the boys their glasses of milk, placing the glasses on the table beside their bowls of spaghetti with the motherly, no nonsense warning, that they were to eat everything on their plates before leaving the table and not to play with their food before she turned and hurried to join her husband in the living room. “John, what’s wrong?” she asked as she reached him, and he turned around to look at her with a look of fear and devastation in his eyes, “Has something happened?”

“Honey, Steve’s been shot,” he told her quietly.

“Steve?” Janey parroted, staring at her husband, shocked by the news, unable to believe what he was telling her as she managed to croak out, “How…how bad?”

“It’s bad, real bad. He was shot at almost point blank in the head. He’s… he’s critical … they … they don’t know if he will make it.”

“Ohh, God,” Janey moaned, “How... how did it happen?”

“From what we have been told, Mike Stone and Steve were trying to arrest a murder suspect in the old Bellevue apartments in Mission Street.”

“That’s only three blocks away from here.” Janey gasped.

John nodded, “Stone took the apartment’s front door while Steve covered the alleyway in case the suspect tried to do a runner using the fire escape.”

“And the suspect shot Steve trying to escape?”

John hesitated before he answered quietly, “That’s what the initial investigation suggests but…”

“But?” Janey frowned in confusion, uncertain of what her husband was trying to tell her.

“A witness saw two small boys run out of the alleyway a minute or so after the shot was fired, followed a minute later by the suspect.”

“Two small boys?” Janey’s frown deepened with confusion.

“Two small boys who fit both Sammy’s and Tommy’s descriptions, right down to the clothes that they are wearing.” John continued slowly.

“But it couldn’t have been the boys…” Janey began.

“Wait, before you say anything, there’s something more I need to tell you. Steve was shot by a .38 caliber bullet.”

“You mean like the type of bullet you use in your police service weapon?”

John swallowed and nodded, “Yeah, the same type of bullet that I use in my gun.”

“But I don’t understand,” Janey whispered, uncertain if she really wanted to hear any more of what her husband wanted to tell her. “Why are you-”

“Just listen,” John told her desperately, wanting to get what he needed to tell her over and done with. “This afternoon, when I started to get ready for work, I discovered that someone had been playing with my gun, I put it in its holster with the safety clip on in the drawer before I went to sleep but when I opened the drawer to get it later, it was lying on top of the holster.”

“You don’t think Sammy was playing with it again, do you?”

John nodded as he rushed on, “I asked him about it, Janey, and he lied right to my face. Told me that he didn’t touch it, but I think we both know that he did.”

“But what’s that got to do with Steve’s shooting?”

“After I heard about Steve and the two little boys the witness saw, I …I checked my weapon. I mean…I hoped I was wrong about what I was thinking. I felt like such a failure as Sammy’s father for even thinking it, but I had to make sure, especially after what happened with Jamie…”

“And?” Janey asked fearfully.

“There was one bullet missing… and… and it had been fired recently.” John murmured, reluctantly.

Janey wrapped her arms around herself, in a desperate attempt to try and ward off the icy cold that seemed to emanate from her very soul as she sat heavily down on the sofa and stared up in shock in horror at her husband. The sickening feeling of déjà vu washed over her, and she felt that she was reliving the nightmare all over again, except instead of Jamie’s death, it was Steve now fighting for his life after being shot at point blank range in the head, only a few short blocks from their own home. She prayed that John was wrong about his unspoken suspicions about the gun and the missing bullet, and the two boys who matched both Sammy’s and Tommy’s descriptions who were seen running from the alleyway only minutes after Steve was shot. Shaking her head in denial, she could only whisper, “No, no, you have to be wrong. Sammy promised us that he would never touch your gun again, besides the gun was in the bedside drawers next to our bed where you were sleeping, and the boys were playing outside all afternoon. There just has to be some other-”

“I really want to be wrong about this, I do, but after what happened with Jamie…” John paused, kneeling in front of his wife. Reaching for her hands, he gently clasped them in his, as he asked quietly, “But Janey, I really need to know, is it possible that the two boys might have gotten my gun and snuck away to play with it while you were watching your show?”

Biting her bottom lip, in an attempt to stop the tears from falling as she remembered her own suspicions about what the two boys had been up to and if they had stayed in sight of the house when they were riding their bikes as they had been told, when they had come inside while she was watching her show, she slowly shook her head. “I…I don’t know.” A tear trickled down her face as she glanced towards the kitchen where she could hear the two boys laughing before she looked back at her husband and whispered guiltily, “Oh, I’m sorry John, I know I should have been watching them closer but I…I…”

Forcing a small smile, he reached up and wiped away her tear with the back of his hand as he squeezed her other hand and murmured reassuringly, “I know, Sweetheart, it’s okay…”

“But what if you’re right, John? What if Sammy did take your gun? What if…” she whimpered in terror.

“Shh, shh, Sweetheart, everything’s going to be okay, I promise.” John whispered, as he rose and sat on the sofa beside her and wrapped his arms around her.

“But what if Steve dies like Jamie did? How are we going to protect Sammy?” she sobbed, burying her head into his shoulder, “Oh God, John, we have already lost Jamie, I don’t know what I will do if we lost Sammy as well.”

“We’re not going to lose Sammy, I promise you!” John murmured into her hair.

Pulling slightly away from her husband’s comforting embrace, Janey sniffled and looked fearfully up into his eyes as she asked cautiously, not quite daring to believe what John was promising her, “We won’t?”

“No, we won’t,” John smiled reassuringly.

“But what if Steve dies…or the suspect Steve was after wasn’t the shooter and saw what happened, or Steve recovers and tells them that…”

“Listen Sweetie, we don’t even know for sure if my suspicions are correct, but I promise you, I am going to try and assist with the investigation and if I do find out that Sammy was the one who shot Steve, I promise I will take care of it. No one, and I do mean _no_ one, will ever know what really happened. I will make sure of that, just like I did with Jamie’s death.” John promised as he lovingly brushed an errant strand of hair away from her face.

“But what about Tommy?” Janey’s voiced hitched a little as she grabbed her husband’s hand and held it tightly against her cheek, needing his physical contact to help her calm herself down.

John frowned as he realized that if Sammy had shot Steve, then Henderson would not have been the only witness. He knew that the boys had been together all afternoon, but he had been so consumed with the fear that his son might be responsible for Steve’s shooting that he had ignored the fact that if Sammy was indeed responsible for Steve’s life-threatening injuries then Tommy might have also witnessed it. Biting the inside of his cheek, he thought about how he could procure the silence of the young boy before he suddenly looked back at his wife and asked, “Tommy’s staying with us a few days, isn’t he?”

Janey nodded, “Yes he is, remember I told you this morning that I told Simon and Carol that he could stay with us for a couple of weeks while they went away and work on their marriage.” Wiping away another tear, she asked, tentatively, “Why?”

“I was just thinking that it might be best, that while the investigation is happening if you take the two boys away for a couple of days, maybe a trip to Disneyland …”

“But John, can we really afford that?” Janey gasped, staring at her husband in surprise.

John shrugged as he looked over her shoulder towards the kitchen where he could see the two boys getting up from the dinner table before he looked back at his wife and whispered urgently, “Can we afford not to? I mean, we need to get the boys away from here, until I can find out just what happened in the alley today and if Sammy is somehow responsible. And we can’t afford either Sammy or Tommy talking to anyone, just in case.”

O()O()O()O()O()O()O()O

Stepping up to the side of the bed in the small ICU room, Mike felt the breath rush from his lungs, leaving him breathless, as he found himself staring at his young partner in the bed. Steve's head was swathed in heavy white bandages, which only accentuated the dark bruises that marred the left side of his swollen face, an oxygen mask covered his mouth and nose, and beneath the mask he could just see part of the black tube the surgeon had explained had been placed in Steve's throat to protect his airway. Three IV bags hung above the bed, two IV lines connected to two of the bags' snaked down and disappear beneath the white dressing at the junction of Steve's neck and shoulder, while the tubing of bag, that contained blood, disappeared beneath the small dressing on the back of Steve's right hand.

More disturbing was the raised, red blotches, Mike instantly recognized as hives, that covered Steve's face, neck, chest and arms. Mike was certain that more of the same angry looking blotches probably covered the rest of Steve's body hidden beneath the crisp white sheet that covered him. The only sounds in the room was the soft, fast beeps of the heart monitor that sat on the table next to the bed and the strange wheezing sound that accompanied each breath Steve took.

"He is responding to the medication that we gave him to treat the allergic reaction and his condition is stabilizing," the surgeon reiterated quietly from the foot of the bed, seeing the shocked expression on Mike's face as the Homicide lieutenant crushed the rim of the fedora he was holding in his hands as he stared down at his partner.

Mike nodded, swallowing hard as he continued to stare down at Steve, not quite trusting his voice yet to speak as he blinked back a tear.

Glancing down at his patient before he looked back up at his patient's upset partner, the surgeon's tone softened as he added, "But the hives after such a severe reaction often take a few hours or even a day or two to settle down and disappear."

Mike nodded again as he released the strangling grip he held on his fedora and reached across to place his hand lightly on Steve's bare arm. Even though he knew that Steve was unconscious, he hoped that somehow Steve would know that he was here and that he was not alone as he gave the warm skin beneath his hand a gentle squeeze and whispered. "I'm here, Buddy boy, you're in the hospital. Doc said you've had a little set back with some of your medication but you're going to be okay, Steve, you're going to be okay... You hear me, Buddy boy, you're going to be okay…"

"Mike."

Mike turned back towards the door as Bill hurried into the room.

"The nurse told me you were in here with Steve," Bill began softly, releasing a small shocked gasp as he reached the side of the bed before he asked worriedly, "How's he doing?"

"He had a bad reaction to some of the medication, but his condition is stabilizing," Mike answered, watching Steve for a heartbeat more, before he turned to face Bill. "What have you got?"

Bill stared at Steve's bruised and swollen face for a moment before he returned his attention back to Mike, "The name of the young woman in the photo you gave me and an address. I thought that you would like to join me when I pay her a visit tonight."

"You bet I would," Mike answered immediately as he turned and hurried towards the door. Reaching the door, he paused and turned back to the surgeon, "If there's any change in his condition…"

"I will contact you immediately," the surgeon replied.

"Thanks, Doc," Mike nodded as he turned and followed Bill from the room and out of the unit.

Waiting until they were alone in the elevator and the elevator doors slid shut, Bill reached into his pocket and pulled out his notebook, flicking it open to the last page where he had scribbled down the details he had found about the mysterious woman in the photo that Mike had found in Henderson's apartment as he began his quick version of a report as the elevator jerked and began its descent to the lobby. "Her name is Jennifer Rankin, Mike, she has an apartment on Fairmount and works as a clerk down at City Hall. She was Henderson's girlfriend. From what I have been able to find out, they were together for just a few months, but their relationship was quite rocky one, and after several stints in the hospital for Jennifer after their arguments turned violent, the two of them split up just over a year ago." Bill fell quiet as the elevator doors slid open and they stepped into the hospital lobby and headed towards the main doors before he added softly, "Fairmount's not that far from Mission, Mike."

Mike nodded as he pushed the door opened and they stepped out into the cold misty night air and crossed to the car park, "Well, let's pay Miss Rankin a visit and find out if she has had any visitors earlier this afternoon or tonight, or find out if she has heard from him at all today."


	6. Chapter 6

Randy glanced across at his partner as John opened the car door and slid in beside him, slamming the car door shut before turning and staring up at his closed front door. “How did Janey take the news?” Randy asked softly, breaking the silence between them as he turned the key and started the car.

“Not good.” John sighed as he turned back to stare out the front windshield as Randy eased the car out into the light traffic and pulled away from his home.

Randy nodded as he cast another quick glance in the mirror at his partner, “Did she confirm that Sammy and Tommy were at home when Steve was shot this afternoon?”

“Yeah, she said they were playing on their bikes out in the street.” John murmured distractedly as he turned his head to read the registration of a parked car they were passing, disappointed that the registration did not match the registration of a stolen car they were on the look-out for that had been used in a string of armed robberies before returning his attention back to the traffic ahead, “She said they never went further than the corner.”

“Janey’s sure they stayed in the street? I mean it was when the soapies were on TV, and if she is like Wendy, once they start, well the world around them seems to just disappear…” Randy asked as he slowed down to check for traffic at a crossroad before driving through.

“Yeah, she sure. And both boys told me that they never left the street when they were playing on their bikes,” John replied, his heart began to race as he slowly turned and faced his partner, asking tentatively, “Why?”

“It’s just that one of the mothers of one of the boys I interviewed thought she saw Sammy and Tommy riding their bikes near Mission Street today about the time of Steve’s shooting. They were headed back in the direction of your house. She said the reason why she noticed them was because they kept looking over their shoulders back in the direction of Mission Street and were riding like the devil was chasing after them.” John answered, forcing himself to keep his attention on the road as he noticed John’s tension rising. Shrugging nonchalantly, he added, “But she couldn’t say for certain it was the two boys, all she best she could do was give me a general description of the two boys she saw. And you said that Janey confirmed Sammy and Tommy were at home with her at the time of the shooting.”

“Yeah, she did.” John nodded a little too fast before he swallowed down the hot bile that was burning the back of his throat as he silently prayed that his partner would dismiss the mother’s report of possibly that Sammy and Tommy were the two boys she had seen with her uncertain and general description.

“As I said in the squad room, the descriptions of the two boys we have been given so far could fit any one of hundreds of boys that age in this city alone.” Randy tried to reassure his partner as he cast a quick surreptitious at his partner’s pale, anxious face.

“Yeah,” John agreed again, weakly, turning back to stare out of the car’s side window, as he tried hard to stop himself from shaking.

OoOoOoOoO

Stepping out of the car after it had rolled to a stop outside the small faded blue house where Jenny Rankins lived, Mike paused as he looked around through the light misty rain. The house was half hidden in dark shadows and the only street lighting was from a small street light down the street that only gave out a small orb of soft yellow light that barely lit the area around it. It would be easy in the misty rain and darkness of the night for Henderson to slip into the house un-noticed and unseen.

Pulling his coat a little closer to ward off the cold chill from the light falling rain, Mike walked across the footpath and up the stairs with Bill close behind.

OoOoOoOoO

Handing a plate piled high with spaghetti to Tony who was seated on the sofa in front of the television, Jenny quickly turned away, unwilling to watch him as he shovelled the food greedily into his mouth, not even taking the time to chew before he wolfed it down. She winced and bit her lip to stop herself from crying out, as he suddenly reached out and grabbed her hand hard, forcing her to turn back towards him, his mouth still half full of food, as he asked, “Aren’t you going to eat?”

Forcing a small weak smile, Jenny shook her head as she gently pulled her hand free of his bruising grip, “I’m not hungry, I’m just going to get myself a cup of coffee. Do you want one?”

“I do if the coffee comes with a shot of whiskey in it,” Tony grinned and winked, reaching across to slap her behind, hard, as she turned to walk away.

Yelping in pain, Jenny jumped out of his reach before she hurried back towards her small kitchen, freezing in mid-step as she heard heavy footsteps coming up her front stairs. Quickly turning around as she heard Tony slam his plate down on the small coffee table in front of him, she watched him pull out his gun as he headed across to the window.

“You expecting anyone?” he hissed angrily as he silently crossed the room.

“N…no,” she stuttered softly as she watched him reach the window and use the barrel of his gun to lift the curtain slightly to peer outside.

“Shit!” he growled as he quickly dropped the curtain back into place and began to move towards her, “Shit!”

“Who is it?” Jenny whispered, frightened at Tony’s reaction as he hurried towards her as she heard someone knock loudly on the door.

“It’s the damn cops!” Tony hissed in her ear as he grabbed her arm and pressed the gun under her chin, “Get rid of them and fast if you don’t want two dead cops on your hands!” Tony warned her before he released her hand and gave her a hard shove towards the door as she heard the officers knock again. “And don’t try to do anything stupid!”

“I won’t, Tony, I promise,” she promised softly as she stumbled and stopped herself from falling, turning around just in time to see her bedroom room door close as she reached her front door.

OoOoOoOoO

Lifting his hand to knock a third time, Mike’s hand froze in the air as he heard the locks of door being undone before the door opened and the young woman, he had seen in Henderson’s photograph, stood nervously in front of him. Smiling his most disarming smile, he showed her his badge as he asked, “Miss Rankin?”

She nodded woodenly, fear evident in her eyes as she answered, “Yes, can I help you?”

“I’m Lieutenant Stone, San Francisco Homicide,” tilting towards Bill, he continued, ‘And this is Inspector Tanner. We would like to talk to you about Tony Henderson. Please, may we come in?”

“I…I haven’t seen Tony in months.” Jenny stammered, scared that they could hear how loudly her heart was beating.

Mike continued to smile as he nodded and tucked his badge back into his pocket. “We know that Miss Rankin, but we are hoping that maybe you can answer a couple of questions for us. I promise it won’t take long.”

Biting her bottom lip, Jenny was unable to think of any plausible excuse to stop them from coming in. She reluctantly nodded and slowly stepped aside, glancing over their shoulders at her closed bedroom door as the Homicide lieutenant removed his hat and stepped past her and his partner followed. Turning, she closed the door firmly behind them.


	7. Chapter 7

Holding the gun up next to his chest, ready to use if he needed to, Tony Henderson watched through the small, slivered opening of the bedroom door that he had left slightly ajar, as Jenny stepped aside, and the two cops entered the small living room. The grip on his gun tightened as Stone looked around, the cop’s eyes lingering a few seconds on the bedroom door before Stone finally returned his attention back towards Jenny as she closed the front door and turned towards him.

“I don’t understand how I can be any help to you,” Jenny ‘s voice trembled slightly as she turned and faced the two officers, not moving away from the door nor inviting them any further into the room as they turned back to look at her. “I’ve already told you that I haven’t seen Tony in months. I don’t even know why you are looking for him or, even, what’s it to do with me!”

“We believe that Tony is responsible for the shooting of a police officer this afternoon,” Mike began to explain.

“The police officer who was shot in the head?” Jenny gasped, her eyes wide in feigned surprise before she added, quickly, “It’s all over the news. They said that the officer was shot while trying to make an arrest …” Mike nodded silently, watching her closely as she slowly looked down and shook her head before she suddenly snapped her head back up to look at him as she asked timidly, “Tony wasn’t the suspect he was trying to arrest, was he?”

Mike nodded again but did not say a word.

“Ohh, my God!” Jenny stared at Mike, before she dropped her voice to just above a frightened whisper as she brought her hand up to her chest, “You said that you’re from Homicide, does …does that mean that the officer died?”

“No, the officer is still alive but his condition is critical,” Mike answered quietly, as he pushed aside his own tumultuous feelings of grief and fear for Steve’s precarious condition, instead forcing himself to remain in cop mode as he continued, “but we could use your help in finding Tony. We need to find him, fast, before anyone else is hurt.”

Jenny swallowed hard, trying to stop her voice from cracking before she spoke again, she was unable to look either officer in the eye as she shrugged, “Look, I’m sorry, but I don’t know how you found me or just how much help you thought I could be, but I’m afraid that you are wasting your time talking to me when you could be out there looking for Tony! The only thing I can tell you is the last time I saw that bastard was a few months ago when he put me in the hospital. After that, I told him we were through and I never wanted to see or hear from him again, and I haven’t.”

“We are hoping that you may know some of his friends, someone who he might turn to when he is in trouble or maybe somewhere where he feels safe and he would go to lay low for a few days?” Bill asked, shooting a quick look at Mike as the young woman grew more agitated.

Casting another quick nervous glance over Mike’s shoulder towards the bedroom door, Jenny shook her head hard as she saw the door open a little wider and saw the glint of Tony’s gun as the light from the living room reflected off the metal of the barrel as it was aimed at the two officers’ backs. Fearful of what was about to happen if she didn’t get the two officers out of the house, fast. “Look, I…I swear, I don’t know any of Tony’s friends or even where Tony is or where he would even go, and I don’t want to know…” She opened the door and quickly stepped aside as her eyes drifted back to the barrel of the gun now clearly seen in the doorway as she stammered, her heart thumping painfully in her chest as she rushed on, “Now please, … you … you really have to leave now. I was just about to get ready for work and I’m already late and I really can’t afford to lose this job. But, I promise, if I hear from Tony or find out where he is, you will be the first to know.”

“Thank you.” Mike smiled as he looked across at Bill and tilted his head towards the door in a silent command to leave before he followed. He resisted the urge to look back as he heard the door close behind them as they walked down the stairs.

O()O()O()O()O()O

Turning around, after closing the door, Jenny leaned back against it, wrapping her arms around herself as she tried to stop herself from shaking. She held her breath as she watched the bedroom door fling open before Tony emerged and hurried across to the window, parting the curtains just enough to watch the two cops climb into their car and drive away.

“Are they gone?” she whispered fearfully.

“Yeah, they’re gone,” Tony nodded, watching the taillights of the car disappear from view around the corner, before releasing the curtains and allowing them to fall back into place. “But they will be back.” he growled, nervously wiping his lips with the back of the hand that still clutched the gun before he suddenly turned and hurried across to her. “And when they do, we won’t be here!” he hissed as he roughly grabbed her arm and dragged her across to the table, snatching up her hand bag and car keys before he turned and dragged her back to the front door. “Because I’m getting out of here, and you’re coming with me!” he told her as he opened the door, ignoring her soft pleas to let her go as he forced her out of the house in front of him.

O()O()O()O()O()O

"She's scared," Bill cast a quick glance up at the house as he opened the car door and slid behind the steering wheel.

"She has a good reason to be," Mike agreed as he slid into the passenger seat and slammed the door closed.

"Think Henderson's in there?" Bill asked as he started the engine and pulled away from the curb.

Mike nodded, looking back at the house in the rear vision mirror as they drove away before he ordered quietly, "I want you to pull over around the corner, out of sight of the house and let me out."

Bill turned and looked at Mike in surprise, "Where are you going?"

"I want to go back and see if I can find out what's going on in that house." Mike answered as the car pulled up at the curb and he opened the door. "Radio for some back up, tell them no lights or sirens and to stay out of sight until I check out what's going on."

Grabbing Mike's arm as the older man climbed out, Bill frowned, "Mike … be careful, Henderson's already shot Steve …"

"I will," Mike nodded as he straightened up and jogged towards the corner.

Picking up the mic as he watched Mike disappear around the corner, Bill sighed loudly, before he depressed the mic's button and radioed for back up.

Stepping around the corner, Mick pushed his hat lower on his head and pulled his coat closer as he tried to blend into the dark shadows and misty rain as he carefully made his way past the two houses until he reached Jenny Rankin's home. Pressing himself against the wall of the house, he stealthily edged his way to the side of the cement stairs. He only had time to duck back down into the dark shadows as the front door suddenly opened and Jenny stumbled outside with Henderson gripping her arm tightly as he forced her down the stairs.

Silently drawing his gun, Mike waited until they reached the bottom of the stairs before he stood up, his gun trained on Henderson's back as he called, "Hold it, Henderson, police! Let her go and give yourself up!"

Jenny squealed in fear and broke free of Henderson's bruising hold, running away as fast as she could, as Henderson spun around to face Mike as he reached for the gun he had tucked in his belt behind his back.

"Don't even try it, Son," Mike warned, a dangerous edge coloring his voice, his finger tightening minusculely on the trigger as he kept his weapon trained on Henderson's chest.

Henderson hesitated as he stared at Mike before he sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he allowed the gun he now held in his hand to drop to the ground, kicking it away, before he slowly raised his hands in surrender.

"Turn around and place your hands on your head." Mike ordered as he saw Bill running towards him with Jenny trailing reluctantly behind, out of the corner of his eye.

"Ya making a huge mistake, Stone, I didn't kill Jones and I didn't shoot your partner," Henderson protested weakly as he placed his hands behind his head and slowly turned around. "I admit it, Jones and I had a fight over the money he owed me, but I didn't kill him, nor did I shoot your partner this afternoon." He continued to protest as Bill quickly patted him down, searching for any more weapons before grabbing each arm and bringing it down behind his back, handcuffing him. Shrugging free of Bill's hold, Henderson turned back to Mike as Bill re-grabbed his arm and began to lead him back to where their car was parked. Looking back over his shoulder at Mike, Henderson yelled, "You have to believe me Stone, there two kids in the alley and they shot him! Just ask your partner, he'll tell you it was the two kids who shot him, not me!" Pulling against Bill's firm grip, he continued to yell, "Go on, Stone, ask him! Just ask him!"


	8. Chapter 8

Tony Henderson sighed loudly in frustration, shifting in his chair, as he glared across the table at the Homicide lieutenant sitting on the other side, watching him. "Look, Stone, how many times do I have to tell you that I didn't shoot your boy, Keller, in that alleyway?"

"Well, Henderson, I want you to tell me again," Mike answered coolly, as he removed his glasses and placed them on the writing pad in front of him and leaned back in his chair, looking at the handcuffed man, expectantly. "I don't want you to leave a single detail out."

"Okay, Stone, okay, I admit it, I legged it, I climbed out of the window when I heard you at the door, I knew someone had stitched me up for Jones' murder and I didn't want to go away for somethin' I didn't do!" Henderson began again, lifting his handcuffed hands and wiping them against his mouth, before repeating the story that he felt that he had repeated at least one hundred times in the two hours since his dramatic arrest outside Jenny's place. Dropping his hands noisily back down on the table, he continued, "So I ran! I went out of the window and down the fire escape but when I reached the alley way around the side of the building, that's when I saw your partner and those two kids with the gun."

"You're telling me the kids had a gun?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, yeah," Henderson nodded eagerly, aware that he had Mike's full attention, "I was running around the corner to get away when suddenly I saw your boy and the two kids. I don't think that Keller even saw me, his attention was focussed fully on the kids and getting them to give him the gun."

"Describe the kids." Mike ordered softly.

"What?" Henderson asked, momentarily confused by the unexpected question.

"What did the two boys look like?" Mike asked again.

Henderson shrugged, "I don't know, they were just two boys … probably about seven or eight, one was blonde, the other had dark hair... "

"What were they wearing?" Mike pushed softly.

"Jeans and tee-shirts," Henderson paused, staring into the distance over Mike's shoulder as he tried to remember anything more about the boys. Suddenly, looking back at Mike, he announced, "Yeah, they were both wearing jeans and tee- shirts but the blonde boy's shirt had a picture on the front of it, one of those iron transfer type of things of a cartoon character, umm… that cartoon about the kid who races cars," he frowned before he suddenly smiled, "Speed Racer, yeah that's the cartoon character he had on his shirt, Speed Racer!"

"And then what happened?" Mike asked as he placed back on his glasses and jotted something down on the writing pad.

"I ain't sure, one minute I heard Keller talking to the boys like he knew them, telling them to give him the gun and the next the kids started fighting over who was going to give it to him, then bang! The gun goes off, Keller falls to the ground and the kids take off running." Henderson sat up straighter in his chair as he looked across the table at Mike. "There was no way I was going to hang around after that, you were already wanting to lock me up for one murder I never did, what chance did I have of provin' that it wasn't me that shot your partner. So-"

"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" Mike looked back up at Henderson, "You said that you heard Keller talking to the boys like he knew them."

"Yeah," Henderson nodded, "I heard him call one of them Benny … not Benny…" Henderson frowned, "Sammy? Yeah that's it, Sammy! Keller called one of the kids Sammy when he told him he wanted the gun."

"Sammy, are you sure?"

"Yeah," Henderson nodded before adding, "Keller called the blonde headed kid- Sammy, and the kid called him - Officer Keller. And like I already told you, that's when the kids started fighting and the gun went off, Keller went down and we all ran. If you don't believe me, ask you partner! He'll back up what I am tellin' you!"

"Oh, don't worry, Henderson, I will as soon as Inspector Keller is well enough to be interviewed," Mike answered as he peered over the rim of his glasses at the man sitting opposite him, "Now, what happened to the gun?"

"Look, Stone, I don't know! It wasn't my gun! But I'm tellin' you, if you didn't find it, then I guess the kids musta taken it. You have to believe me, Stone, I might be a lot of things but I'm no killer. I never killed Jones and I definitely didn't shoot your partner. Find the gun and I bet you will find them two kids who shot Keller!" Henderson sighed with resignation as he shook his head and slumped back down lower in his chair as Mike sat silently, watching him. "See, I knew you wouldn't believe me," Henderson muttered in frustration as he looked down at his lap before he looked back up at Mike and growled defiantly, "Well, if you don't believe me, I guess I have nothin' more to say because you have already made up your mind that I'm guilty. Now, I know my rights, so I suggest that you either charge me with something or let me go cause I'm through co-operatin'. Now I ain't got nothin' more to say to you until I talk to my lawyer."

Mike nodded as he removed his glasses and picked up the note pad in front of him before he rose from his chair and looked across at the uniformed officer standing in front of the door and ordered, "Charge him."

O()O()O()O()O()O

Lee looked up from the report he was typing as Mike entered the squad room, “Mike!” he called, rising to his feet to intercept Mike as the other man made a bee line towards the interview room where Bill was still conducting his interview with Henderson’s girlfriend. “I got the search warrant you wanted, and I got a couple of the uniformed guys to help me search Jennifer Rankins’ home.”

“And?” Mike asked quietly, casting a quick glance towards the interview room where Bill was debriefing the young woman about the night’s earlier events before returning his attention back to Lee.

“Nothing, Mike, no sign of the gun. I’m guessing Henderson probably dumped it somewhere between the alleyway and the house. I have some of the uniformed guys searching the route he would have taken,” Lee shrugged, “but it’s a long shot, Mike, he could have dumped the gun anywhere.”

“What about the two boys the witness saw leaving the alley immediately after the shooting? Any leads?”

“Nothing,” Lee shook his head tiredly. “some of the uniformed guys doorknocked the families in the streets surrounding the alley who have boys about the same age as the boys seen running out of the alley, but all the boys are accounted for, for the time of the shooting.”

Mike frowned, “All of the boys?”

“The guys said there were a couple of families who weren’t home when they doorknocked tonight, so I thought I would door knock those families in the morning,” Lee answered as the phone on his desk began to ring.

“When you do, see if any of the parents or kids know any boys matching the description know Steve.” Mike ordered as Lee headed back to his desk to answer his phone and he headed towards the interview room.

“Do you think Steve might know the kids?” Lee asked, pausing a moment to turn and look questioningly at Mike before picking up the phone.

“Yeah, I do,” Mike replied as he reached for the door handle of the interview room.

o.o.o.o.o

Holding the mug full of hot coffee between her hands, Jenny could not stop shaking as she answered the Homicide inspector’s questions over and over again.

“Tell me about what Tony told you about the shooting of the officer in the alley again?” Bill asked as Mike knocked on the door before entering the Homicide interview room in which she had been placed after accompanying the officers to the police station to give her statement.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Tony was scared and upset. He told me that he was in big trouble…real big trouble. He said that the cops believed he killed a police officer by shooting him in the head as he tried to get away, but it wasn’t him. Look, he was rambling, and I was scared.” Tired, frustrated and scared of feeling like she was being treated like she had done something wrong, she looked up pleadingly at Mike to believe her as she repeated what she had only told the officer a few minutes before, “As I have already told everyone who has asked the same question over and over again, Tony said something about there were some boys in the alley when he tried to get away. I’m not sure just what happened, Tony didn’t tell me, he told me one of the boys shot the officer, not him.” She sighed as she looked back down into the mug of coffee and muttered, “He told me that you would never believe him…”

“And you do?” Mike frowned as he sat down on the other side of the table, watching her closely.

Jenny looked back up at Mike, “Look, I know Tony is no angel, in fact, he is an utter bastard! Hell, he proved that to me over and over again, but one thing I will say about him, no matter whatever else he did, he has never lied to me. Not once!” Biting her bottom lip, she looked over Mike’s shoulder, into the dimly lit homicide squad room where only one inspector was still sitting at his desk, laboriously hitting the keys on a typewriter before she looked back at Mike and finally answered his question, “So you want to know if I believed him when he told me that he never shot that police officer, that one of the kids did? Yes, I believed him, okay, I believed him!”

Placing the coffee mug back onto the table, she suddenly pushed her chair away from the table and stood up, “Look, it’s late, I’m tired and I have already told you everything that happened tonight, now unless you want to arrest me or something for lying to you about Tony being in my home, I’ve already told the inspector that I didn’t have any other choice. He threatened to kill you both, and me, if I gave him away. Now please, can I go? I just really want to go home.”

Mike nodded as he rose from his own chair and hurried across to open the door, “Of course, and thank you for your co-operation,” he smiled politely as he opened the door and stepped aside to allow her to leave, “but -”

“I know, I know, but in case you have any more questions for me, you don’t want me leaving town,” Jenny anticipated his next words before she looked at him with a small tired smile, “Isn’t that what the cop says to the suspect or witness in all the cop shows?”

Mike gave a soft chuckle, “I guess it is, but I was going to say but because it’s so late, how about I get one of my inspectors to give you a lift home.”

“Ohh,” Jenny blushed, before she added demurely, “Thank you.”

Mike smiled and nodded as he looked past her shoulder and called Lee over. He waited until the younger man joined them before he requested that Lee drive Jenny home and then suggested that afterwards Lee call it a night himself.

Bill silently watched through the glass window of the interrogation room as Jenny and Lee left the squad room before he turned back to Mike and frowned, “So what do you think? She insists that Henderson told her the two boys in the alley were responsible for shooting Steve.”

“Henderson is telling the same story,” Mike answered slowly, “He says that Steve was already distracted by the two boys when he came around the side of the building and one of the boys was holding a gun. He claimed that Steve and the boys seemed to know each other.”

Bill frowned before he turned back to look at Mike in surprise, “You don’t believe Henderson’s story, do you Mike?”

Staring at the empty doorway to the squad room, Mike hesitated a moment before he slowly nodded and answered, “I do.”

“Mike!”

Both men, surprised by the familiar and very angry voice of a young woman, turned towards the anteroom door leading into the Homicide office as Jeannie charged in.

The look in her eyes warned Bill this was one father/ daughter reunion between Mike and Jeannie that he did not want to witness. Hastily making up an excuse to leave, Bill quickly slipped past Jeannie and managed to reach the safety of the door as he heard Mike ask weakly, “Sweetheart, what are you doing here?”


	9. Chapter 9

Seeing the fear and anger in his daughter’s eyes as she skirted around the desks to reach him, he asked weakly, already knowing the answer, “Sweetheart, what are you doing here?”

“Lee called me and told me what happened, and I caught the first plane that I could to get here as fast as I could,” she told him the hurt and anger evident on her face.

“Lessing shouldn’t have…” Mike began.

“No, you’re right, Mike, Lee shouldn’t have called me because it should have been _you_ who called!” Jeannie snapped a little harsher than she meant to. Taking a deep breath, to cool her temper, she admitted, “I went straight to the hospital because I thought you would be there, but the nurse said you had already left.” She shook her head, “They wouldn’t even tell me how just how badly Steve was hurt, all they would tell me was that his condition is critical. They wouldn’t even let me see him, Mike!”

“I know, Sweetheart,” Mike told her as he wrapped her arms around him and pulled her a little closer, “They are not allowing anyone, even me, to see Steve tonight.”

“What happened Mike? Lee said that Steve was shot in the head while trying to make some sort of an arrest.” Jeannie asked, pulling away from Mike slightly as she looked up at his face, “Just how badly is he hurt?”

Mike swallowed hard, unable to answer her question, as the memory of hearing the gunshot and then finding Steve motionless on the ground in that alleyway, bleeding from a gunshot wound to his head, slammed back into his mind.

“Mike?” Jeannie asked again, unable to stop the fear she was feeling from leaking into her voice.

Swallowing hard again, Mike looked down at the frightened and expectant look on Jeannie’s face. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to tell her the barest details of what had happened only hours before. “Steve got a lead to where a suspect was hiding, and we went to try and make the arrest. I took the stairs while Steve took the alleyway. The suspect panicked and escaped out the window and went down the fire escape…”

“And he shot Steve…” Jeannie finished softly.

Mike nodded, “And Steve was shot…”

“How… how bad?” Jeannie whispered, not certain that she really wanted to know.

"The bullet struck the left side of Steve’s head. The doctor says that he was lucky; the bullet didn’t penetrate his skull but it did cause a depressed skull fracture as it gouged along the outside of his skull, which caused a couple large bone fragments to break away and press down against his brain The fragments caused some bleeding and his brain to swell. They were able to stop the bleeding and remove the bone fragments before wiring the pieces of bone back into place."

"But he's going to be okay?” Jeannie asked, almost pleading with her father to tell her that Steve was going to be okay.

Hugging Jeannie a little closer, Mike found himself unable to answer as a large lump formed in his throat.

“Mike, he _is_ going to be okay, isn’t he?” Jeannie asked again as she felt her father’s breath hitch a little.

“I …I don’t know, Sweetheart, I just don’t know.” He whispered into her hair.

“Ohh, Mike!” Jeannie sobbed as Mike held her tighter and kissed the top of her hair.

“Let’s go home,” he murmured, “There’s nothing else we can do for Steve, tonight.”

Attempting to wipe away some of the tears that now ran freely down her face, Jeannie could only nod as Mike released her and quickly entered his office to grab his coat and fedora before he returned. Placing his arm protectively around her shoulders, he silently led her past Steve’s desk and out of the now empty bullpen.

OoOoOoOoOoO

“Hey, John, Randy, hold up for a sec.”

The two SFPD officers stopped and turned around as they waited for their colleague to jog across the garage parking lot to where they had parked their squad car at the end of their shift.

“Did ya hear?” Charlie asked excitedly as he reached them.

“Hear what?” Randy frowned tiredly, not in the mood for guessing games after a long tiring nightshift and a distracted partner who seemed to have spent the whole shift in his own head than on patrol in the squad car.

“About Henderson!” Charlie grinned as the trio began to walk towards the garage doors that lead into the station.

“What about Henderson?” Randy stopped looked across at Charlie, his hand resting on the door leading into the building.

“We got the bastard!”

“When?” John demanded, surprising Randy that his partner was even listening to the conversation.

“Late last night, Stone and Tanner arrested him after they found him hiding out at an old girlfriend’s apartment. I heard that he gave up without a fight.” Charlie answered as he reached across and pushed open the door, waiting until the two other officers followed him and the door closed behind them, before he rushed on. “But get this, he’s screaming that he is innocent, that he didn’t murder that businessman and that he didn’t shoot Keller either.”

Randy snorted in disgust, like many other guilty men before him, Henderson was now screaming that he was innocent. “So, just who is he trying to say shot Keller in the head at close range while he was escaping? Those two little kids the witness saw running out of the alleyway after she heard the gunshot?”

“Yeah,” Charlie shook his head in disbelief, “can you believe that? Man, I thought I heard it all but to blame two little kids of trying to murder a police officer while you are trying to escape, that has to take the cake. Hell, he even told Stone that he thought Keller knew the boys, he claims he heard one of the boys call Keller - Officer Keller.”

“He did?” John asked softly, his face losing all color as he stared, wide eyed, at Charlie.

“Yeah, said Keller was talking to them like he knew both of them well. How desperate is that?” Charlie breathed as he looked over John’s shoulder, eager to share the news of the arrest of Keller’s shooter with the other officers who were just arriving for the change of shift.

“Did … um … did Stone believe him?” John asked.

“Are you kidding?” Charlie laughed as he turned his attention back to John and Randy, “Of course he didn’t, he had most of us most of the night searching for the weapon that Henderson had used in the shooting and even had us turn over Henderson’s girlfriend’s apartment to look for it.”

“And they didn’t find it?” Randy asked.

“Not yet, but Stone will probably have the guys on the day shift searching for it as well.” Charlie answered, “But we’re sure to find it somewhere between Mission Street and where the girlfriend lives unless someone else has picked it up and decided to pocket it. Not that it matters, from what I heard the case against Henderson is strong, even without the gun, and if Keller dies, he’s facing the gas chamber.”

“Any updates on Steve?” John asked, desperate to change the conversation.

“Last update I heard, he’s still critical and hasn’t regained consciousness.” Charlie answered distractedly before he suddenly excused himself and hurried away, calling out to two more officers who had just entered the foyer, “Hey Gary, Jim, hold up for a sec, did ya hear the news…”

Randy waited until the excited officer moved away before he grabbed his partner’s arm and pulled him back out into the garage parking lot. Spinning John around to face him, he demanded, “Okay, John, spill man, just what the Hell is going on with you?”

“Nothing, I’m fine!” John snapped guiltily as he tried to pull his arm free of his partner’s firm hold.

“Ohh come on, man, I’m your partner, don’t you dare lie to me!” Randy growled, pushing John up against the wall as he released John’s arm and leaned closer with his hand pressed against the wall next to John’s shoulder, preventing his partner from ignoring him or walking away as he dropped his voice to just above a harsh, annoyed whisper, “You were jumpy when you came on duty yesterday and then after you heard about Steve’s shooting.

And just now you just turned as white as a ghost after Charlie told us that Henderson was caught last night and is now trying to claim that Keller got shot by one of the two little boys in the alleyway. Hell, Dude, you’re still shaking like a leaf. You’re not thinking this kid who Henderson claimed Steve knew could have been…” He stopped as he found himself staring at the look of fear and desperation in his partner’s eyes that he had seen there only once before after he had insisted on taking John out for a few drinks to try and help him unwind, just a few weeks after Jamie’s death. John had become quite inebriated and had tearfully admitted that despite the coroner’s ruling, he knew that Jamie’s death was not natural, that he had found Sammy standing proudly next to the cot, where Jamie was lying dead, with the pillow still clutched in his hands.

John had begged him to keep the true circumstances surrounding Jamie’s death a secret and he had seen no point in sharing what he had been told. John and Janey had already lost one child, he could not put them through the heart rendering ordeal of possibly losing the second, but he had made John promise to try and get his son some help and he knew that John had kept that promise but even with the therapy, he had still seen an icy coldness in the little boy’s eyes that he kept telling himself was just his own active imagination after being told what Sammy had done.

“Ohh, Man, you do think it was him, don’t you?” he whispered softly as he dropped his arm.

John nodded before he quietly admitted, “The description of the two boys match Sammy and his friend, Tommy down to a tee, even down to the clothes they were wearing yesterday. And Janey can’t say for sure that they were playing in the street around the time when Steve was shot, she got wrapped up in her soapies.”

“But that doesn’t mean…” Randy began.

“There’s more,” John confessed brokenheartedly, looking past Randy’s shoulder, unable to look his partner in the eye as his guilt about what his own son had done threatened to overwhelm him.

Randy waited a minute as two officers who glanced curiously at them as they walked past had moved far enough away that they could not be overheard before he asked cautiously, “Go on.”

“Remember how Sarge said that Steve was shot with a .38 calibar weapon.” John murmured.

“Yeah…”

“Well, when I went to bed yesterday I placed my service weapon in its holster with the safety clip on in the drawer beside the bed but when I got up and went to get my weapon, it was laying on top of the holster.”

“Did you ask Sammy about it?” Randy asked softly, aware that the boy had been found playing with the gun and punished on previous occasions.

John nodded, “He said that he didn’t touch it.” Looking back at Randy, John’s could not hold back the tears that began to trickle down his face as he rushed on, “He lied straight to my face, Randy, like it was nothing. Then after Sarge told us about Steve’s shooting, I checked my gun … God, I hated myself for even doing it, but I had to check.”

“And?” Randy asked slowly, already knowing the answer.

“There was one round missing from the chamber, my gun has been fired recently but not by me.”

“Are you sure?” Randy frowned.

John nodded and swallowed, “I cleaned the gun and made sure it was fully loaded before I placed it in the drawer yesterday morning and now there is a bullet missing and it’s been recently fired.”

“Oh shit!” Randy breathed. “That explains why you have been distracted all shift and wanted to talk to Janey and the boys alone last night. And why you were so jumpy after I told you that a neighbour thought she saw Sammy and Tommy riding their bikes back from the direction of Mission Street about the time of Steve’s shooting.”

“Oh God, Randy, I don’t know what I am going to do. This is Sammy we are talking about and we both know that Janey is never going to cope if we lose him as well. And to be honest, I am not sure if I can cope if we lose him either.”

“Easy, Buddy, easy, let’s take this thing one step at a time. Now you said that Tommy is staying with you and Janey for the week? Where are they now, at home?”

John shook his head as he took a deep breath and desperately tried to wipe the tears from his face with the back of his hand, “No,” his voice hitched a little as he answered, “I sent her and the kids down to spend a few days at Disneyland last night. I didn’t want anyone deciding they wanted to question Sammy or Tommy about where they were yesterday afternoon.”

“Good, good,” Randy nodded as he reached up and gave his partner’s arm a reassuring squeeze, “Listen, we can fix this so nobody will ever know what happened.”

“How?” John asked desperately.

“First, we just need to make sure that the evidence against Henderson is airtight, so he goes down for Keller’s shooting…”

“But what about Steve, what if he regains consciousness and remembers what happened…”

“Hey, I’ve got your back, partner, you just do whatever you have to do to protect Janey and Sammy and let me worry about Steve.”


	10. Chapter 10

Waiting until he saw his upset partner climb into his car and drive away, Randy Kelegain turned and hurried back into the station, looking for Charlie. He hoped that the excited patrolman could give him a little more information about Henderson’s arrest and the search for the ‘missing’ gun.

He found the officer he was seeking in the locker room, changing out of his uniform into street clothes as he told the last couple of stragglers who were getting ready for the day shift about the dramatic arrest of Henderson and Henderson’s claims that two children were responsible for Keller’s shooting. Randy shook his head as he heard Charlie warn the three officers that they would be probably spending the day searching for the missing weapon.

Standing next to the door, he waited until the three officers had finished dressing and hurried out of the room before he walked across to Charlie. “Ah, Charlie, just curious about something, buddy, you said that Henderson was arrested at his girlfriend’s apartment last night, that right?”

“Yeah, that’s right, over on Fairmount,” Charlie nodded.

“And you said the bastard tried to claim that two kids shot Keller, not him?” Randy asked, coloring his voice with feigned disbelief.

“Yeah, can ya believe that, trying to pin the blame for shooting a cop on two little kids.” Charlie shook his head in disgust.

“You don’t happen to remember the girlfriend’s name or her address, do you?” Randy asked as he leaned against a locker.

“Yeah, I think I heard Tanner tell the sarge that her name was Rankin…Jennifer Rankin, she lives in one of those apartments on Fairmount, … number 41, I think.” Charlie told him before frowning, “Why?”

“I was just thinking of going across and maybe give the day shift a hand with searching for the gun. I think Stone is right, if the bastard didn’t have it when they arrested him and he didn’t ditch it in his girlfriend’s apartment, the chances are he tossed it somewhere between Mission and Fairmount. This bastard shot a cop, a good cop, and I want to make sure that I am doing everything that I possibly can to make sure he doesn’t get away with it!” Randy told Charlie as he pushed himself away from the locker and headed back towards the door. Pausing, he turned back to the other man, “Hey Charlie, thanks for the info.”

Charlie nodded and smiled. “Hey Man, anytime, just trying to do my bit,” he called after Randy as Randy disappear out of the room.

Pulling out his notebook, Randy quickly scribbled down Henderson’s girlfriend’s name and address as he hurried back down to the parking lot and climbed into his car. Sliding behind the steering wheel, he reached across and unlocked his glove box before reaching inside. Gently pulling out the old .38 police special, that he had once found during a search after a drug raid and had kept instead of turning it in as evidence, he stared at it as he chewed his bottom lip.

He had promised John that he had his back and would do everything he could to make sure that no one else knew of John’s suspicions. And it was a promise that he was determined to keep. He knew that neither John nor Janey would be able to cope with another loss of a child. And if anyone else ever found about just how Jamie really died, or if John’s suspicions about Keller’s shooting were ever proven correct, that was precisely what would happen. Sammy would be placed in some sort of institution, where he would not be able to harm or kill anyone else.

Randy shook his head. It was something that he couldn’t… no, he wouldn’t let happen, because it would tear both John and Janey to pieces if they lost their only remaining son, even if Sammy was damaged beyond repair.

Randy sighed. But if John was right and Sammy was responsible for Keller’s shooting and had used John’s service weapon, he knew that if a gun wasn’t found, questions were going to be raised about whether Henderson could be telling the truth about the shooting and that maybe the two kids seen in the alleyway were somehow responsible.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he stared at the gun in his hand. But what if the search did turn up the gun that Henderson had tossed after the shooting? 

Sarge had told them that even though the bullet recovered from the alleyway after Keller’s shooting was too damaged to link it to the weapon used, the lab boys had been able to determine that it was a .38 caliber slug. Flicking open the chamber, he stared at the six bullets before he flicked it closed again, his smile growing as plan solidified in his mind.

What would be more damning then finding the gun tossed away on the same route that Henderson would have taken to get to his girlfriend’s apartment? And what if there was just a single bullet missing from the chamber? And what if the forensic examination of that gun confirmed that it had been recently fired?

The smile on his face morphed into a grin. He just happened to know somewhere where he could shoot that one bullet, a place where shooting the weapon would not raise any suspicions or where nobody would never, ever even think of searching for the bullet.

Tucking the gun into his waistband, he chuckled as he covered it up with his police jacket before climbing back out of the car and heading back into the station.

OoOoOoO

Walking casually into the SFPD indoor shooting range, Randy smiled and nodded to the sergeant as he grabbed the pen to signed in.

“Hey Kelegain, weren’t you here yesterday?” the sergeant frowned in confusion as he watched the younger man scribble his name into the book. “I wasn’t expecting to see you back here until next week.”

Straightening up, he returned the pen he had been using next to the book, Randy shrugged, “I thought that I had better get some more practice in and sharpen up my shooting skills. I have my weapon recertification coming up next month and I want to make sure I pass.”

“As if there’s even the slightest chance that you won’t pass your recert!” The sergeant chuckled before growing serious and shaking his head as he reached beneath the bench and grabbed a pair of earmuffs and safety glasses, handing them across the counter to the younger man, “I still don’t understand why you haven’t accepted Jenkin’s invitation to join SWAT. Seriously, Kelegain, if I had even half the shooting skills that you have and had the head honcho of SWAT offer me a position on his team, I would be accepting it in a heartbeat, instead of wasting my talent in uniform, manning a patrol car.”

Randy shrugged as he accepted the safety equipment, “I guess I’m just not ready to move up the ladder yet, besides Sarge, what’s wrong with being in uniform and manning a patrol car?”

“There’s nothing wrong with a patrolman,” the sergeant agreed before adding softly, “But I just hate seeing talent like yours not being used where it can do the most good.”

Kelegain blushed, “Thanks Sarge, but I’m happy being on patrol. I have a great partner, he’s got my back and I will always have his, no matter what. Besides that, I love being on the front line and never knowing just what the next call we’re going to respond to is going to be.”

“I still think that you should seriously think about accepting Jenkin’s offer,” the sergeant told him, “You really are wasting your talent being in uniform.”

“How about settling for a ‘I’ll think about it’,” Randy relented before changing the subject, “So any particular cubicle or do I get my own choice?”

Glancing up at the whiteboard hanging on the wall beside the sign-in bench, the sergeant shrugged, “Cubicle eight is free.”

“Thanks, Sarge,” Kelegain smiled as he turned and headed towards the door leading into the shooting range.

The sergeant shook his head as he watched the younger man open the door and enter the inside range. “What a damn waste of talent!” he muttered to himself as he turned back to return to his desk to finish filling in the monthly report.

Entering the shooting range, Kelegain hurried past the other two shooters before he reached the cubicle which he had been assigned. Removing his service weapon from his holster, he quickly ran through the safety check, ensuring the gun was loaded and ready to use before he placed it on the bench in front of him and put on the earmuffs and safety glasses. Picking up his weapon again, he took off the safety and lining up the target, before shooting off the full round, hitting the target with each round. Pausing a moment, he quickly looked around, reassuring himself that he was alone before he placed his weapon back down on the bench and reached under his jacket and removed the .38 special he had hidden in his waistband. Lifting the weapon, he took off the safety and aimed it at the target, firing a single shot before he quickly lowered the gun and switched back on the safety and tucked it back into its hiding place.

Picking up his service weapon again, he quickly reloaded it before taking several more shots at the target, counting the bullets, he fired until he had just one round left. He smiled, relieved, he had managed to accomplish what he wanted to, he slowly lowered his gun and flicked the safety on before reholstering it and removing his earmuffs and glasses. 

Hitting the button beside him, he watched as his target slowly slide towards him, snatching it off the pegs that held the paper target in place and studying it. He nodded to himself, as he stared at the bullet holes in the paper, twelve rounds fired resulting in twelve direct hits to the bullseye. Screwing the target paper up into a tight ball, he dropped it into the bin in the cubicle before he collected his gear together and headed towards the door.

The sergeant looked up and frowned as Randy placed the safety gear back on the bench and reached for the pen to sign out. “You didn’t practice for long.”

“Yeah, I know but I just remembered that I have an appointment.” Randy smiled as he signed his name and dropped the pen back onto the bench., “How well did you do?” the sarge asked as Randy turned and headed towards the door, although he suspected he knew the answer.

“Twelve out of twelve.” Randy called over his shoulder, raising his hand in a wave as he opened the door and walked out.

Shaking his head as the door closed behind Randy, the sergeant muttered again, “What a damn waste of talent!”

OoOoOoOoO

Less than ten minutes later, Randy was driving across the Highland Avenue bridge. He gave a small sigh of relief as he spotted several uniformed officers traversing the treed slope that separated Arlington Street from San Jose Avenue below, and in the small yards and gardens on the other side of the Arlington, searching for the gun that Henderson was suspected of using in Keller’s shooting. If the guys were still searching here, he knew that they had not yet began to search Fairmount Street where Henderson had been arrested by Stone while hiding out in his girlfriend’s apartment.

Turning right onto Arlington, he coasted slowly past the officers who were more focused on their search than taking any notice of any car driving past. Turning left into Fairmount, he pulled up against the curb, glancing down at the address he had jotted down back at the station before he looked back up and stared at the houses that lined the street, searching for number 41.

Spotting the house that he was searching for, a small smile slipped onto his lips as he spotted the fenced garden containing trees and shrubs surrounded by carefully laid out flower beds, in the property next door. “Bingo,” he whispered to himself as he opened the car door and climbed out of his car.

Crossing the road, he jogged up the footpath until he reached the fence yard. Glancing around to make sure that the street was still empty, he carefully reached into his pocket, removing his handkerchief before he reached for the gun he had tucked into his waistband. Pulling it free, he used the handkerchief to wipe the gun clean of any fingerprints before he tossed it over the fence into the garden bed, where it landed partially hidden, next to a small toy car, beneath the flowers.

Satisfied that the gun would be found when the uniformed guys searched the garden, he turned and hurried back to his car before climbing in and driving away.

OoOoOoOoO

The surgeon glanced at nurse's notes and observations written in the patient's bedside notes that were clipped to the clipboard that hung at the end of the bed before looking back at his restless patient in the bed. The angry hives that had covered the inspector's body had now faded to large red splotches, and the loud audible wheeze, which had accompanied each breath he took the night before, was gone.

"He started fighting both the tube and sedation about an hour ago." The nurse told the surgeon who nodded and silently handed her back the chart before he walked around the side of the bed and removed the small torch from his pocket.

"Have we got the film back from this morning's x-rays?" he asked over his shoulder as he turned his torch on and began to check his patient's pupil reactions.

"They should be on the nurse's desk by now. Do you want me to get them?"

The surgeon shook his head as he gently folded back the thin sheet that covered Steve's chest before he removed the stethoscope, he carried around his neck, and fitted the earpieces into his ears, as he told her distractedly, "No, just grab me the report, I'll look at the x-rays after I have finished here."

The nurse nodded before slipping out of the room as the doctor placed the head of the stethoscope against Steve's chest and began to listen to his breath sounds before moving it to another area, frowning as he concentrated on listening closely for any sounds of crackling or wheezing.

Straightening up, he removed the stethoscope earpieces from his ears and left the stethoscope dangling around his neck before he carefully lifted the sheet and covered Steve up again. He turned as the nurse returned to the room and handed him the X-ray report.

Perusing the report, he was relieved to see that the x-rays confirmed that the swelling and bleeding within Steve's skull was under control. Placing the report on the bedside table as he heard the young inspector softly moan and gag on the tube in his throat, he quickly grabbed Steve's hand and gently pushed it back down onto the bed preventing the restless, semi-conscious man from trying to pull the oxygen mask free from his face. Glancing at the nurse at the nurse, he softly ordered, "Let's remove the endotracheal tube and lower the sedation to allow him to wake up enough, so we can get an idea of just how much damage has been done and just what we are dealing with."

The nurse nodded as she turned to leave the room to get the kidney tray and gloves that they needed for the removing the tube from Steve's throat, before she paused at the door and turned back towards the surgeon, "What about his partner, Lieutenant Stone? He's already phoned twice this morning, anxious for an update."

Glancing at his patient, the surgeon frowned before he looked back at the nurse who standing in the doorway, waiting for his answer. "Phone him, and ask him to come in. I think we may need him to help calm our young friend here if he becomes agitated when he wakes up. I would rather not sedate him again if we can avoid doing so."


	11. Chapter 11

Pushing the scrambled eggs around on her plate, Jeannie snuck a quick, furtive glance across at her father who was sitting across from her on the other side of the table, staring into his now cold cup of coffee. He looked exhausted and she wasn’t surprised. She doubted that he had managed to get any sleep after they had got home from the station, she had heard him moving about as she laid awake in her own bed, staring at the dark ceiling, worrying about Steve. She had overheard Mike phoning the hospital twice during the night, asking for updates on Steve’s condition. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something Mike was hiding from her. Looking back down at her plate, she placed the fork she was holding back down onto the plate before she pushed it away and looked back up Mike, determined to find out just what Mike wasn’t telling her about Steve.

“Mike, I want to know just what is going on! What aren’t you-” Before she was able to ask her question, she was cut off by the phone ringing in the living room. She momentarily froze as Mike jumped up, knocking his chair over in his rush to get to the living room to answer the phone. Forcing herself to rise to her feet. She trailed slowly behind him, stopping in the kitchen doorway as Mike answered the phone. Holding her breath, she watched her father’s face whiten and his knuckles tighten around the receiver as he turned his back to her, as he listened to the caller before promising that he would return to the hospital immediately.

She felt her heart race as Mike slowly hung up the phone and slowly turned around before he saw her standing in the doorway, watching him.

“Mike?” she asked fearfully when he didn’t say a word.

“That…that was the nurse…They are lowering Steve’s sedation…The...the doctor wants me to be there when he wakes up.”

Jeanie smiled as she hurried across to the coat rack and grabbed Mike’s coat and fedora, handing them to him before she grabbed her own coat and handbag as she laughed with relief, “Thank God. Let’s get going.” She ordered as she quickly shrugged into her own coat before reaching for her handbag and heading towards the front door.

“Jeannie…” Mike began. There was something in Mike’s voice that made Jeannie stop in her tracks and she turned to look questioningly back at her father as Mike swallowed hard and began, “I think that maybe … just this time… that maybe it would be better if I go to the hospital alone…”

"Just what the bloody hell are you trying to hide from me, Mike?" Jeannie demanded as the feeling that Mike was hiding something from her returned tenfold.

Mike felt his chest tighten as he saw the hurt and fear in Jeannie’s eyes and heard the anger in her voice. “Jeannie…”

“Well, what is it, Mike? What aren’t you telling me?” Jeannie demanded again. Seeing the fear and hesitation on Mike’s face, she swallowed hard, allowing her temper to cool as she suddenly realized what Mike was likely hiding from her. “It’s Steve, isn’t it, Mike?” she asked softly, her face losing its color as she whispered, “You said he was shot in the head …The…the doctors aren’t just worried that he might not make it? They’ re worried that he has suffered some sort of brain damage, aren’t they? That’s why you didn’t phone me when it happened and why you don’t want me to be with you when he wakes up, isn’t it?”

Mike nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall.

“How - how serious do they think the damage may be?” Jeannie asked, fearful of the answer.

“We don’t know, Sweetheart. The doctors said they just don’t know if Steve has suffered any brain damage and if he has, just how serious it may be, until he’s awake.” Mike told her, trying hard to stop his voice from cracking as he continued. “The doctor is worried that he might become agitated because of the head injury when he wakes up which could make any damage steve has suffered worse and that’s why he wants me to be there when Steve does wakes up.”

“Then we better get to the hospital before he wakes up, so he has both of us there.” Jeannie ordered Mike before she turned and grabbed her coat and handbag and headed towards the door.

()0()0()0()0()0()0()

Carefully examining the spot where Jeffrey had said they had found the gun, Bill slowly rose to his feet and turned to look at the fence and the footpath beyond before turning his head to look at Jenny Rankin's house next door. His eyes drifted back to the small body that Bernie was examining, the four-year-old's older brother had found the gun that Henderson must have tossed into the garden after shooting Steve and had decided to play cops and robbers. An innocent game probably played by the two brothers every day had turned deadly when the five-year -old boy had aimed the gun at his brother and pulled the trigger.

"Bill!"

Turning back towards the house, the Homicide inspector watched as his partner emerged from the home and jogged down the stairs before joining him near the garden. "How is she holding up?" he asked softly.

Lee shrugged, "As good as can be expected, I suppose. She's still in shock. She said she had sent the two boys outside to play just a couple of minutes before she heard the gunshot. She ran outside to find her oldest son, Jeffrey holding the gun and a police officer jumping the fence to try and help her youngest son, Adam, who was lying dead on the ground from a gunshot wound to the chest."

"Man, that's got to be tough!" Bill murmured, glancing up at the front door before he looked back at Lee and asked, "Has she got anyone to stay with her?"

"A neighbor said that she would stay with her until her husband gets home from Montana. He's there on business and said he will try and get the first plane back." Lee told him as Bill looked around the garden that had now turned into a taped off crime scene. "So, what have we got?"

"Looks like Henderson decided to try and get rid of the gun that he used to shoot Steve by tossing it away over the fence of his girlfriend's neighbor's house as he went ran past last night and it landed here in the garden bed." Crouching back down, Bill moved several flowers apart and pointed at a deep, fresh depression in carefully tended soil before he looked back up at Lee and added, "And that's where we think the boys found it this morning."

Lee nodded as Bill rose back to his feet, "That confirms what Jeffrey told me. He said after they found the gun, they decided to play cops and robbers. He was the robber and when he pulled the trigger-"

"He accidentally killed his brother, all because at that age they probably thought the gun was a toy." Bill finished for him.

"At their age, they wouldn't have known any difference anyway," Lee sighed.

Bill nodded his agreement as he looked around before stopping to stare at the house next door as he caught sight of Jenny Rankin's peeking through the curtains, watching all the police activity in her neighbor's yard. Shaking his head as he turned back to Lee, he told him softly, "You know, if the kids had have come out here five minutes later, this probably would never had happened. The guys had just finished searching the yard next door for the gun and they were just about to search this yard when the shooting happened."

"Oh, man!" Lee murmured as he turned and watched Bernie gently covered the little body that was now lying on the gurney with a white sheet before strapping it securely and wheeling it towards the coroner's van. Turning away, not wanting to see the finality of the van's doors closing after the body was placed inside before taking the small boy from his home for the last time, Lee looked back at Bill, "So what now?"

"Let's get things wrapped up here and get back to Bryant Street.” Bill answered.

Lee nodded his agreement before he asked, "What about Mike, shouldn't we bring him up to speed on the case?"

"Before we left the station, I heard Roy tell Rudy that the hospital had called, looking for Mike. They urgently needed him to return to the hospital. So, I’m guessing that Mike's probably more worried about Steve then what's happening with the case right now, so I think it's probably better if we leave bringing Mike up to speed on the case until later." Bill told the younger man softly before adding, "So, let's just get everything wrapped up here and go."

()0()0()0()0()0()0()

“Please Mom, can we go on the Mad tea party ride,” Sammy begged for the tenth time in the last ten minutes, “The sign says if we are seven, we don’t need a grown-up.”

“Plleaaaaasssseee, Mrs Wakefield,” Tommy joined in, “You can sit here and still be able to see us.”

“Yeah Mom, it’s just over there,” Sammy pointed across to the teacup ride.

Janey glanced across at the ride and nodded her head, “Okay, but I want the two of you to promise me that you will come straight back to me after the ride finishes.”

“We promise,” Tommy said excitedly.

“Sammy?” Janey asked as the smile disappeared from Sammy’s face to be replaced by a scowl of annoyance. Ignoring his annoyed look at being told what to do, she gave him her best ‘don’t ignore me, young man,’ look as she said firmly, “I’m waiting for you to promise me that you will come straight back, or else you will have to wait until I am ready to go on the ride with you.”

Glancing longingly across at the ride before he returned his attention back to his friend, Tommy nudged Sammy again, “Go on, Sammy, tell her that you promise.”

Staring defiantly at his mother for another few moments, trying to decide if she was serious or not, Sammy finally relented when he realized that this time, she was serious. Sighing loudly his displeasure at having to do as he was told, he looked down at his shoes as he mumbled, “I promise.”

“What was that? I didn’t hear what you said.” Janey said softly.

“I said I promise!” Sammy growled angrily as he looked up and glared at his mother.

“Okay then, you can go,” Janey told him, watching him as he turned away and ran across to the ride with Tommy following closely behind him. She waited until they joined the line before she tiredly sunk down onto the park bench beside her and sighed, wishing that John was with her. She wasn’t sure if she could do this, if she could handle Sammy alone. Although she would never admit it to John there were some days when Sammy scared her, especially when he gave her that defiant, almost challenging glare that he had just given her moments before. There was an emptiness and coldness in his eyes in those moments that left her terrified and left her wondering if Jamie’s death was really the accident caused by Sammy trying to play with his baby brother as John had tried to tell her it was or if it was something else.

Biting her lip, she reached for her handbag and opened it before taking out the small bottle of pills she had hidden in it. Screwing the pill lid open, she shook one of the small blue pills into her hand, glancing across to where she could see the two boys play fighting while they waited for their turn before she looked back down and shook out another one out into her hand. Popping both pills into her mouth, she dry-swallowed them before she quickly recapped the bottle and placed it back in the bottom of her bag. She had promised John that she had thrown the pills away, but she had lied, they were the only things that were keeping her sane and helped her get through the day.

Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes, listening to the sounds around her as she waited for the pills to work their magic and take all her worries away.

()0()0()0()0()0()0()

“Let’s try and get the orange teacup, I heard it goes the fastest.” Tommy said excitedly as he watched the teacups spin past him.

“Is not, the purple one is faster!” Sammy told Tommy, peering over his friend’s shoulder as he watched, wide-eyed as the purple teacup spun past, spinning at a dizzying speed. “So, that’s the one I say we’re goin’ on!”

“But I want to go on the orange one,” Tommy protested, turning back to face Sammy before yelping in pain as he felt Sammy grab his wrist with both hands and twist it cruelly giving him an Indian burn until it hurt.

“I said we’re goin’ on the purple one!” Sammy said quietly as he twisted Tommy’s skin on Tommy’s wrist with his hands.

“Don’t, Sammy, you’re hurting me!” Tommy protested, trying not to cry as he tried to pull his hand free, “Let go, or I’m going to tell ya mom on you and you’ll be in trouble.”

Twisting the skin on Tommy’s wrist harder, Sammy warned him softly, “You tell my mom and I’ll wait til you’re asleep tonight and I’ll put the pillow over ya head and press down on it until you are dead just like I did with Jamie.”

“No, ya didn’t! Ya telling big, big fibs!” Tommy said, “You’re a great big fibber, Sammy Wakefield. I heard your mom tell mine that Jamie died from nat’rul causes!”

“That’s what dad told her to say!” Sammy whispered, ‘’Cause he doesn’t want me to get into any trouble. And if you tell her I told ya, I’m gunna get my dad’s gun and shoot her dead, just like Officer Keller, so she can’t tell my dad that I told ya!”

Tommy bottom lip began to tremble in fear as he looked into the angry face of his closest friend and he knew, almost instinctively, that Sammy would do as he said he would do. Swallowing hard as he glanced back over his shoulder at the ride as it slowed down and stopped, he nodded as he looked back at Sammy and forced a weak smile, “Ya right, Sammy, the purple one is faster.”

“Yeah,” Sammy grinned as he released his friend’s red and swelling wrist and spun Tommy around to face the ride before giving him a little push to get moving as the gate opened and the line began to move, “So come on, Tommy, run, before someone else tries to get it!”

()0()0()0()0()0()0()

Squeezing Mike’s hand a little harder, Jeannie was unable to stop her small gasp of shock as she followed the surgeon and Mike into Steve’s ICU room before nervously crossing to the side of the bed and looking down at Steve. An oxygen mask covered the lower half of Steve’s face and his head was wrapped in heavy white bandages, which only accentuated the darkening black bruise that covered the left side of his swollen face. She swallowed hard as she noticed the strange fading red splotches that covered the rest of Steve’s face, neck and chest and seemed to continue beneath the crisp white sheet that covered him. “Ohh Steve,” she whimpered, squeezing Mike’s hand even harder as she watched Steve toss and mumble incoherently in his sleep.

“He started fighting the sedation about an hour ago.” Jeannie looked up as she realized that Mike must have made her introduction to the surgeon and that the surgeon was now speaking to them as she slowly looked up at him and listened to what he was telling Mike. “So, I’ve decided to lower his sedation and allow him to wake up so that we can get a basic assessment of just what sort of damage we may be dealing with. I understand that you and Inspector Keller are not only partners, but also very close friends, and I know that he has you listed as his next-of-kin.”

Mike nodded and swallowed hard as the doctor continued, ”I am sure that the nurse has already explained to you on the phone that we are hoping that you being here with him when he wakes up will help to reassure him and keep him calm.”

Looking across at Jeannie, the doctor added softly, “I’m not sure just how much that your father has told you about Inspector Keller’s injury and the very real possibility that he may have suffered brain damage but I think you really need to be aware that when he wakes up, he may not be the same young man that you used to know.”

Jeanie nodded, wiping away a tear that cling to her eyelash before taking a deep breath and nodding again as she added determinedly, “But it doesn’t matter, no matter what he is like when he wakes up, he’s still Steve, and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Okay,” the surgeon nodded, silently pleased that no matter what ever they were going to discover in the next few minutes, the young man in the bed would have all the support and love that he needed to face what was possibly an uncertain future, “Let’s wake him up and see just what we are dealing with.”

Feeling Jeannie’s grip on his hand tighten to a bruising intensity, Mike squeezed her hand back as he watched as the surgeon gently grab Steve’s shoulder and gave it a firm shake.

“Steve, Steve, it’s time to wake up!” The surgeon ordered softly waiting for a moment for any reaction before he gave Steve’s shoulder another firm shake as he ordered a little more louder, “Come on, Steve, I know that you can hear me, it’s time to wake up and open your eyes!”

Mike held his breath as Steve moaned a weak protest and tried to pull free from the surgeon’s light hold.

Shaking Steve’s shoulder firmly again, the surgeon ignored Steve’s weak protests as he ordered, “Steve, open your eyes!”

Mike released his held breath in a sigh of relief as Steve’s eye’s slowly flickered opened and he tried to focus on the surgeon leaning over him.

“Welcome back,” the surgeon smiled down at him, grabbing his hand and firmly pushing his hand back down onto the bed, gently thwarting Steve’s weak attempt to make remove the oxygen mask as he lightly chastised him, “Ahh, no, my young friend, I’m afraid that for now you need to leave that where it is for now.”

“W-where?” Steve mumbled; his voice muffled by the mask.

“Where are you?” the surgeon asked.

Steve nodded as he reached again for the mask.

“You’re in the Intensive care Unit at San Francisco General Hospital,” the surgeon told him softly, grabbing his hand again and lowering it back to the bed. “You were shot while trying to make an arrest.”

“Shot,” Steve parroted distractedly as he lethargically turned his head and looked around the room before he stopped and stared at Mike and Jeannie.

“Hey, Buddy boy,” Mike smiled as he released Jeannie’s hand and stepped closer to the bed, looking worriedly across at the surgeon when Steve did not answer and continued to stare at him. Looking back at Steve, Mike asked softly, his heart in his mouth “Steve?’

The doctor frowned as he watched Steve’s reaction closely before he asked, “Steve, can you tell me who this man is?”

Steve shook his head as he continued to stare at Mike.

“Do you know who the lady is?” the surgeon asked quietly, glancing at Jeannie who holding her breath as she waited for Steve to answer before he returned his attention back to his patient.

Steve slowly looked at Jeannie. Jeannie forced herself not to cry when she saw no recognition in Steve’s eyes as he slowly shook his head again and turned back to the surgeon. “W-where?” Steve breathed softly as he made another weak attempt to reach for the mask.

Gently grabbing his hand for the third time, the doctor lowered it back to the bed and sighed as he felt Steve’s hand go limp beneath his as Steve’s eyes slowly drifted closed. Looking up at Mike’s and Jeannie’s worried faces, he nodded towards the door. “Let’s go talk in my office.”


	12. Chapter 12

John sighed in frustration as the nurse at the ICU nurse’s desk suggested that he join the other officers who were waiting for an update on Steve’s condition. She had refused to tell him anything more than Steve’s condition was critical but stable and visitors were strictly limited to Steve’s next-of-kin only until Steve’s condition improved when he had asked to see him. All of his entreats of how he had been the young inspector’s partner before Steve had been promoted to Homicide and how he considered Steve as family had fallen on deaf ears. The nurse had refused to bend the rules just this once as she nodded towards the visitor’s room before firmly suggesting again that he join the other officers in the waiting room where they would be updated on Steve’s condition when an update was available. 

Realizing that the nurse was not going to give in to his pleadings, he pushed himself away from the desk and turned towards the waiting room, almost bumping into Stone and Stone’s daughter, Jeannie, who had appeared behind him while he had been begging the nurse to allow him to see Steve.

“Jeannie, Lieutenant Stone,” he gasped, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he began to regret the spur of the moment decision he had made, after going home to find that Janey and the kids had already left, to come to the hospital and check on Steve’s condition for himself. Grabbing Jeannie gently by the arms in an attempt to help steady her after almost knocking her over, he rushed on. “I’m sorry, Jeannie, I didn’t realize that anyone was behind me.”

“John!” Jeannie brushed away any tears that were still on her face as she forced a small weak smile and looked around, expecting to see Janey and Sammy standing somewhere behind John as John gently released her shoulders. “Is Janey here?”

Casting a quick glance at Mike who was standing just a few short feet away waiting patiently with the doctor for Jeannie to join them again before he returned his attention back to Jeannie, John shook his head, “Ah no, she has taken Sammy and Sammy’s friend down to Disneyland. We thought it would do her some good to get away for a couple of days, you know from the constant reminders of …J...jamie.” John swallowed hard, he hated having to drag Jamie’s name into his lies as he forced himself to go on with the alibi he was trying to set up to protect Sammy, as he saw Jeannie nod in sympathetic understanding as he continued. “She doesn’t know about Steve’s shooting yet. I was just trying to get an update on Steve’s condition before I call her and break the news to her. She is going to be heartbroken when I tell her, she loves Steve like a brother, but nobody is really telling us anything.”

Jeannie forced a small smile as John gently released her shoulders, “His condition has improved a little overnight and he even woke up for a minute or two.”

“That’s great!” John forced a small smile feigning relief despite his heart racing painfully in his chest as he wondered just how much Steve had managed to tell Stone about the shooting and Sammy’s role in it during those few minutes he had been awake. Seeing the flash of pain and sorrow in Jeannie’s face, he asked cautiously, “Isn’t it?”

Jeannie’s lip trembled and she tried hard to stop a new round of tears from falling as she admitted softly, “He…he doesn’t remember us, John.”

“He doesn’t remember you- “ John asked surprised before he watched mike and the doctor begin to walk away before he returned his attention back to Jeannie and asked cautiously, “But that’s just temporary isn’t it? I mean, it’s just because of the head injury at the moment, right? I mean, they don’t think that…” He swallowed hard before he forced himself to ask, “The doctors don’t think that there is any brain damage, do they?”

“I…I guess we will find out soon.” Jeannie answered honestly, a tear trickling down her cheek as she glanced at Mike and the surgeon who were waiting for her to rejoin them. “I better get going. The doctor is wanting to talk to us about Steve’s condition but as soon as I find out anything, I promise I will let you know.”

“Thanks.” John murmured as Jeannie turned and hurried to catch up with Mike and the surgeon before they continued their way towards the doctor’s office.

Waiting until Jeannie joined them again. Mike glanced over his shoulder at the young uniformed officer whom Jeannie had been talking to.

Watching Mike and Jeannie follow the surgeon the surgeon down the corridor towards the doctor's office, an idea began to form in John’s mind. If Steve had no memory of Stone and Jeannie or of what happened in the alleyway, maybe he could make a memory up for Steve, one that did not include Sammy or Tommy.

He waited until they entered the private office at the end of the corridor and closed the door before he cast a quick furtive glance towards the nurses' desk, reassuring himself that the nurse was too absorbed doing paperwork to take any real notice of him. He turned and wandered up the corridor until he reached Steve's room. Looking around again, to reassure himself that no one was watching, he stepped into the small ICU room and quietly closed the door. Turning back towards the bed, he tasted the hot bile that rose in the back of his throat as he stared at the injured man in the bed. He had seen friends in the ICU before who had been injured in the line of duty, but seeing Steve lying critically injured in the bed, connected to a myriad of medical equipment, his head swathed in white bandages, combined with the knowledge that Sammy was responsible, made John feel sick to the stomach.

He hesitated a moment, leaning back against the door, he fought the urge to turn around and just leave but his love and need to protect Sammy, no matter what Sammy had done, quickly smothered any hesitance or doubts that he was doing the wrong thing. He needed to know just who and what Steve remembered, and he desperately needed to know if Steve did remember the shooting, just how much he had just told Stone.

Pushing himself away from the door, he took the few steps across to the side of the bed and stared down at Steve's bruised and swollen face that was partially hidden by an oxygen mask. He frowned at the large red splotches that covered Steve's face, neck chest and arms. It took him a moment or two to recognize the fading red splotches were the result of hives.

Reaching down, he paused, his hand hovering above Steve's arm as he drew a deep breath to strengthen his resolve. He reminded himself that if he was going to protect Sammy, he needed to know. Forcing himself to grab Steve's shoulder, he shook it firmly as he whispered, his desperation bleeding into his voice as he whispered, "Steve, Steve, I need you to wake up, Buddy, I need to talk to you." His desperation grew when he received no response and his grip on Steve's shoulder increased, causing his friend to moan and shift in pain as he shook Steve's shoulder harder as he ordered a little louder, "Come on, Steve, wake up!"

His frantic command was rewarded when Steve slowly opened his eyes and looked up at him. Forcing a small smile, he whispered, "Hey Buddy. it's just me." His smile faded and was replaced by a frown as he saw no recognition in Steve's eyes as the younger man stared up at him before Steve's eyes slowly panned around the room in confusion. "Hey Steve, Buddy…" he began again as Steve turned his head back towards him, "It's me, John…John Wakefield."

"John." Steve slowly repeated, weakly reaching up to tug at the oxygen mask that covered the lower half of his face as he stared up at him.

"Yeah, Buddy, it's me, John.” John forced another small smile as he reached across and slipped the oxygen mask down, off Steve's face. "I need to talk to you about when you got shot."

"Shot?" Steve frowned as he began to lethargically look around the room again.

John nodded as he stared at his friend, "Don't you remember? You were shot when you and Stone were trying to make an arrest."

"I…was shot…" Steve parroted, turning back towards him.

"Yeah," John nodded, his heart beating rapidly. Biting his bottom lip, he stared at his friend, hating what he was about to do but knowing it was necessary if he was to protect not only Sammy but Janey and himself from the from the consequences of Sammy’s actions the day before. Pretending to frown, he asked cautiously, "Don't you remember? You were trying to arrest Henderson."

"Hen-der-son." Steve repeated slowly.

"Yeah, yeah, that's right, Steve, Henderson. You were watching the alley while Stone took his apartment." John continued softly, gently reaching down and grabbing Steve by the chin, turning his head to face him again as Steve lost concentration and began to look around the room again. Just as he did numerous times with Sammy when he wanted Sammy to focus on something and Sammy's attention had wandered. "Don't you remember? Henderson escaped out the back."

"Henderson…escaped…" Steve murmured back at him.

John nodded eagerly and smiled, "That's right, Steve, Henderson escaped, and you encountered him in the alley. Remember? You told him to stop and he shot you!"

"I… was…shot?" Steve asked as he stared up at the stranger standing beside the bed.

"That's right, Steve, Henderson shot you and left you to die, alone, in that filthy garbage strewn alleyway," John whispered as Steve's eyes began to slide closed, "Remember?"

"Hen…der…son…shot …me…" Steve sighed as his eyes closed, his sentence finishing in a soft snore.

"That's right, Buddy," John smiled with relief as he straightened up and stared down at his friend, "Henderson shot you," he whispered, "he shot you and left you to die."

Feeling a weight lift from his shoulders, confident that Steve would remember what he was told, John turned and hurried back to the door. Opening it, he peeked out into the corridor, ensuring both the nurse's station and the corridor were empty before he stepped outside and headed towards the unit's entrance doors.


End file.
